The Pirate and The Mage
by DKLC
Summary: Rivaini pirate, Captain Isabela, and Ferelden Blight refugee, Lady Hawke, enter into a passionate love affair. From rivalmance to true love, can they make it work, despite their many differences?
1. Chapter 1

***** The story of Captain Isabela and Hawke, told from Isabela's perspective. This details the (heavily head-canoned) development of a Rivalry Romance between Isabela and a diplomatic female Hawke. *****

***All characters and locations are owned by Bioware**

**1**

"If I may be so bold as to say, tonight, Isabela, you are looking lovely!"

"Why, yes, you may be so bold, Varric. And if you keep that up, you may have to drop your anti-human policy while I drag you up to my bed by the chest hair and show you what you've been missing." Isabela placed her hand on the dwarf's chest, mockingly stroking his thick rug.

He swiped her hand away. "Woman! Look, but do not touch! You cannot afford me."

The buxom pirate threw back her head and laughed, and went back to her drink, while Varric pulled up a seat beside her.

Growing up on the surface, Varric had known many humans. In fact, they were almost all he knew, his interactions with other dwarves being limited to his older brother, Bartrand, and the occasional merchant or mercenary who worked in Kirkwall.

Varric liked humans; he would have been very bereft of social interaction if he didn't. But he especially liked Isabela. He hadn't known her for long, one day she'd shown up at the tavern out of the blue, and a storm of trouble had followed her.

She was pretty, by human standards, with mocha coloured skin, flowing dark brown hair and warm, golden eyes. She dressed to accentuate her figure, which was more than ample enough on its own, but the patrons of The Hanged Man tavern had seemed grateful for her revealing attire, nonetheless. Standing at just under four foot tall put Varric at Isabela's chest height, and trying to retain eye contact with her, while one of the most beautiful sets of breasts in Thedas was in his face, had proved a challenge all of its own.

Captain Isabela, of the recently destroyed ship, _Siren's Call_, seemed to be in some sort of trouble. She was vague enough on the details that Varric knew there had to be something shady afoot, but he was personally invested in his newly found friend's safety enough that the details weren't important.

"I think I might know someone who can help you with that problem you're having" Varric announced.

He had seen Isabela take down three armed men who had confronted her earlier that night. She was skilled in her own right, but she seemed worried, and whatever the men had been after seemed to be a lingering issue.

"And what problem would that be, Varric?" she purred, still in her flirty mood.

Varric knew this mood, and knew that in a few hours, he would be hearing the sounds of Isabela and a new playmate through the woefully thin walls of the tavern.

He indulged her in a chuckle. "Oh you're right, obviously there is no problem. I get jumped by assassins intent on cutting my throat _all the time_. It's a standard day. I'll leave you to your drinking, then."

Isabela sighed, her playful mood gone. "Okay, okay. Someone who can help me, how?"

"In the way that people end up very, very dead" Varric answered simply, not sure if _dead_ was a strong enough word for the sheer destruction that his companion was capable of.

"I could certainly use some help with that… Who is this friend of yours then? And how much does he want? I'm not overloaded with coin, but I could spare a few for the man who helps me get rid of Hayder and his pests."

Varric smiled. "I was hoping you would say that. I took the liberty to ask Hawke to come here tonight. It's a fairly new association, but from what I've seen, you won't be disappointed. And as far as a fee… I think you'll be happy with Hawke's price."

Isabela's lips curled into a smirk. "Hawk…" she moaned the name, "With a name like that, I'm sure he won't let me down!"

Varric tried to stop the laughter from bursting through his lips at Isabela's assumption. "First of all, it's Hawke. With an E. It's a family name. Calm down, Rivaini!"

"First name, middle name, family name, what do I care?! I'll be screaming it by the end of the night - that's the important thing. I can imagine him now, tall, dark, muscle bound. And broody. Please tell me he's broody?" her face lit up in a raunchy smile.

Varric threw his head back and let the laughter escape his chest. "Oh Rivaini, the places your mind goes to! Who am I to spoil your fantasy? Oh, this is going to be good!"


	2. Chapter 2

2

It had been a few hours. Varric had made the mistake of eating the peanuts at the bar, so had retired to his room with a sore belly, leaving Isabela to drink alone. She was drunk, but aware of her surroundings, and as she felt someone approach her from behind, she spun quickly, pulling out a blade from her waist.

'What do you want?!" she demanded, before locking eyes with a surprised looking young woman.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you Isabela?" the girl asked in the smooth, distinctive accent of a Fereldan.

Isabela sized the girl up. She was a little bit shorter than Isabela, and with a smaller frame. But she had a delightful little body, with a small waist, reasonably large breasts and a set of hips that a man - or woman - could rest their pint on. Just the way Isabela liked it. Shoulder length black hair framed her striking face, which had plump pink lips and the brightest blue eyes that Isabela had ever seen.

"That's okay, sweet thing, you didn't frighten me. _Nothing_ frightens me! Yes, I am Isabela. Captain Isabela, although that title rings somewhat hollow with my ship broken into a thousand splinters off the Wounded Coast. But, enough about me. Let me buy you a drink, and you can sit on my lap and tell me about yourself."

She let her eyes travel up and down the girl at liberty, watching the girl squirm slightly under her attentions.

"Ugh!" an unimpressed voice came from behind the girl, and Isabela noticed a large, heavily armoured, woman, with flaming red hair.

Isabela's lips curled in mockery. "What's wrong, big girl? Are you jealous? It's okay, it can be your turn next…"

"No thanks!" the redhead spat out, obviously another Fereldan.

"Interesting, you throw yourself at two women, and ignore the man standing before you?" a deep voice came from beside the redhead.

For the first time, Isabela noticed the large man, well; boy was a more appropriate word, standing with the two women. Normally she would not have missed a big lad like him walking in, but her eyes had been too busy devouring the tasty morsel in front of her.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Carver, stop being so competitive…" she shot in the direction of the boy.

"Oh, don't worry, there needn't be any competition. I can handle you both" Isabela assured the tall boy.

His face contorted into a look of horror, an unusual sight for a man that was just offered two women. "You, and my _sister_?! I think not!" he said storming off.

Isabela let a little giggle escape her lips. She hadn't been overly interested in the boy anyway, not with this pretty girl, who was apparently his sister, standing before her. "So, what about that drink, sweet thing?"

"Umm… thank you for the offer, Captain Isabela, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I was actually looking for you. Varric told me that you might be in need of my assistance?"

Isabela let that information tick over in her mind. _Assistance?_ Had Varric hired her a prostitute?! No, this girl was too attractive to be sold for 50 pieces of silver.

"I'm Hawke. I'm not sure if he mentioned me?" the girl added helpfully.

"_You're_ Hawke?!" Isabela nearly spat out her drink. How was this pretty girl, in her little green dress, the warrior with an affinity for destruction that Varric had described?

The girl nodded. "Yes, I'm Hawke. This is my friend Aveline," she said, gesturing towards the grumpy redhead to her left, "and the man-child you just met is my younger brother, Carver."

"I'm sorry sweet thing, I'm not trying to be rude, but I have some extremely skilled killers after me. I'm going to need more than a pair of children and their nursemaid to help me out with this problem. But if you ever change your mind about the drink, you know where I am." Isabela turned her back on the girl, and went back to her drink.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Captain" the girl, Hawke, said graciously, before making her way to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait, Hawke!" It was Varric, running down the stairs from his room. "Isabela, what are you doing sending her away? This is the girl I mentioned."

Isabela turned around to make eye contact with her dwarven companion. "Yes, I know it's the _girl_ that you mentioned, although I will point out that you not only failed to mention her gender, but also the fact that she's just left her swaddling clothes."

Hawke cleared her throat, "Actually, I'm 20…"

"Isabela, you of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover. I think that we could help each other. You need help getting rid of your assassins, and we need help raising coin" Varric reasoned.

"I've already told you, Varric, I don't have much coin" Isabela said impatiently.

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I've seen you, Isabela, you're like lightning with those blades. Come and work for us. We raise coin for our needs, you raise coin for your ship. Everybody wins. Come on, you're not doing anything better with your time, are you?"

Isabela paused, and looked around the tavern. Regular coin coming in would be handy. And getting to chase around after this pretty girl looked like it could be fun.

"It sounds like we could be useful to each other, Isabela. We can watch each other's backs" Hawke added reassuringly.

Isabela smirked. "Oh, I'll certainly be watching _your back_, sweet thing."

Hawke nodded with a smile, apparently missing the intent of the comment. "Excellent. So, what can I help you with?


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

From the time that they opened the Chantry doors, it had taken exactly 30 seconds for Hayder and his men to be dispatched. Isabela had taken care of Hayder personally, landing a knife in between his eyes, while the rest of his men had died screaming, engulfed in flames.

"You're a mage?!" Isabela demanded, turning to Hawke as the last body went down.

Hawke straightened her dress and sheathed her staff. "Yes. I am. Is that a problem for you?"

"Why aren't you in the Circle?" Isabela pressed. She didn't have a problem with mages per se, but an apostate would be a target for all sorts of attention from law enforcement.

"Good question!" Carver barked, sheathing the greatsword that he'd not had the chance to use.

Hawke shrugged. "Would _you_ want to be in the Circle? Never get to cook a meal, or walk on the beach, or kiss a boy?"

Isabela couldn't argue with that. She loved to be free. She thought of those years that she'd been forced to submit to her husband. She would never let that happen again. Yes, freedom was the most important thing of all. "No, you're right, I wouldn't. We don't have a problem here. I'm just not fond of surprises, even when they come in such a nice little package."

Hawke led the way out of the Chantry, and Isabela realised that she must have been blind before. She'd been so intent on checking out that perky rack that she'd missed what was right in front of her.

Hawke was not wearing a "pretty little green dress", she was wearing lyrium infused mage robes, and she had a whopping big steel staff strapped to her back. Isabela felt foolish for confronting her moments earlier.

"You're very powerful. Can all mages do that?" Isabela asked, trying to smooth over the tension she'd created.

"All mages have the potential to do that. But, most get sent to the Circle by the time they're 10, and the Chantry prohibits the teaching of offensive spells. Circle mages get taught healing powers, and a few defensive spells, but they'd be rubbish in a fight."

"Who taught you, then?" Isabela asked, trying to get a bearing on who this girl was.

"My father. He was like me. He insisted on teaching me and my sister how to 'kick arse,' as he called it, before he taught us anything else. He died a few years ago, so I never learned the healing arts."

Isabela fell into step with Hawke, leaving Carver trailing behind. "I'm sorry about your father. You have a sister? Does she look like you? I don't know if I could handle there being two Hawke girls running around Thedas."

Hawke laughed sadly. "She was Carver's twin, but everyone said that Carver and I looked much more alike. I suppose Bethany favoured father, while Carver and I favour our mother. Beth and I had the same hair and lips, though. And we were the same size, so we always stole each other's clothes."

Isabela took note of the use of past tense, but wasn't sure whether to pry or not. The Hawke's were Ferelden Blight refugees after all, so it was more than possible that the sister didn't make it to Kirkwall.

"She's dead" Carver shot out from behind them.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sweet thing" Isabela cooed to Hawke.

"That's kind of you. Thank you" the mage said, keeping her eyes trained on the pavement.

"An ogre smashed her into the ground" Carver added unhelpfully.

"Yes, thank you Carver. Your sensitivity when retelling the worst moment of our lives is touching," Hawke grumbled over her shoulder at him.

"What? At least I don't blame you for it, like mother does."

Hawke shot Isabela an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry, my brother was raised by dogs apparently, for all the manners he has. I'm sure you really don't want to be privy to our dramatic family discussions."

"It's okay, sweet thing, we all have our problems…" Isabela said thoughtfully, as she looked up at the cloud filled night sky.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

Isabela didn't know a lot about the girl she was working for. Except, of course, for the fact that Isabela found her incredibly attractive. In six months, she'd learned only the most basic information about the apostate from Ferelden.

Of herself, Hawke didn't say much. She didn't drink, she didn't flirt, she didn't do anything of interest at all, really. If Isabela had been told that Hawke was a Chantry sister, she would not have been surprised. Of course, then the challenge to see what was up her dress would have been even more irresistible, so it was probably for the best.

They were scouring the track to Mount Sundermont, on a ridiculous hunt for a lost amulet. "The reward is 3 gold sovereigns, well worth it" Hawke had insisted.

Varric was with them, seemingly just as unimpressed with Hawke's money making scheme. But, she had promised them a sovereign each if they helped her find it, so the two rogues begrudgingly trekked along the rocky path with her. They both fell in step behind the mage, equally enthralled by the view of those swaying hips.

Isabela was a pirate to the core, and the only that reason she had agreed to this wild goose chase, was because she liked booty - _both kinds_. Hawke's was first class, and would make quite a notch on Isabela's bedpost. She could take the swaying no longer, and decided it was time to test the waters.

"You're a very pretty girl, Hawke. Varric, don't you think Hawke is pretty?"

Varric shot Isabela a curious look, and she gave him a cheeky wink. "Yes, Hawke is beautiful, for a human."

Hawke gave a quizzical glance over her shoulder, and slowed her pace. "Umm… thank you Isabela, that is kind of you to say."

"But you already knew that, didn't you Hawke? Pretty girls always know that they're pretty."

Hawke paused slightly. "Why are you asking me? You're a pretty girl, do you know that you're pretty?"

Isabela smiled mischievously behind the mage's back. "So… you think I'm pretty?"

Hawke kept up her slow pace, keeping her back to Isabela. "Yes, I think you're pretty. Because you are pretty."

"Hmm… that's good to know" Isabela said victoriously, openly staring at the delicious set of legs in front of her.

"Is there a joke that I'm missing here?" Hawke asked nervously. A lot of Varric and Isabela's banter went over the head of the inexperienced Fereldan.

"Ignore her Hawke, she's just trying to confuse you… and me!" Varric interjected.

"Have you ever had a woman, Hawke?" Isabela continued, while Varric spluttered uncomfortably beside her.

Hawke was silent for a moment, and Isabela thought that she was going to ignore the question entirely, and spoil Isabela's fun. "You mean… in bed?" she asked quietly.

The question brought a smile of delight to Isabela's lips. "Yes, sweet thing, in bed. The fact that you even had to ask that has answered my question."

"Umm… No. I've never had a woman in bed."

"That's a shame, Hawke. Women are _so _much more fun in the sack than men. You have had a man, haven't you, Hawke?"

Varric's cheeks went slightly red, and he ran his hand through his slick, sandy blonde hair. "Okay Isabela, you've had your fun, now leave the kid alone."

"Be quiet, Varric. Hawke and I are having girly talk. So, where were we, sweet thing? Oh, that's right. Are you a virgin?"

She caught a glimpse of the side of Hawke's cheek, and saw that the young mage was blushing furiously. She was shy. Isabela liked shy. _So much more rewarding when you finally get a shy girl on her back, moaning and begging for more._

"No, I'm not a virgin. I have had a man."

"Just the one?" Isabela asked, trying to get another look at those blushing cheeks.

Hawke cleared her throat. "Yes. Just the one."

"Did you love him?"

Hawke paused uncomfortably, before answering. "He was a good man. He was very dear to me."

"Did you break his heart, Hawke? You look like you're a bit of a heartbreaker…" Isabela was enjoying this game. She didn't realise that Hawke would be so open to playing. She would have started it months ago, had she known.

"No, I didn't break his heart. He marched to Ostagar with the rest of the soldiers. He never returned" Hawke explained, only letting her voice betray the slightest emotion.

And just like that, Isabela's game ended. There were perils to playing with people who had just escaped a Blight.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

"We got a bit off track the last time I saw you, sweet thing. The conversation started off about pretty girls, and somewhere along the line, we got stuck on dead boys. Shall we pick up where we left off?" Isabela was walking in step with Hawke and her younger brother, Carver.

He immediately grimaced. "Please don't tell me you've been hitting on my sister, whore."

"Carver!" Hawke cut in sternly, "Don't you ever let me hear you call a woman that word again. Unless she works at that brothel in Hightown that you visit so frequently."

Carver blushed furiously, and Isabela was impressed by her young companion finally baring her teeth. "Thank you, sweet thing, but I can handle myself. I've been called that name more times than I care to count."

Hawke frowned. "Well you shouldn't be. It's not true. If you were a man, people would call you a stud and be impressed by your prowess. But because you're a woman, intimidated little _boys_ like my brother, call you that name."

Isabela looked at the girl beside her in a whole new light. She'd tag along with Hawke and her obnoxious brother more often, if this was the side of Hawke that he brought out.

Carver was a handsome boy. At 19, he was just a touch too young for Isabela's tastes. He had the same black hair and piercing blue eyes as his sister, but apart from that, they were opposites. Where he was tall, broad chested and strapping, she was short, curvy and pretty. Going out with them was like a bisexual buffet, everything that anyone could find attractive in a partner, was personified by the Hawke siblings. While Isabela may have been tempted to straddle the angry boy and ride him until he became a happy man, she found the older sister and her innocent, shy demeanour, to be much more enticing.

"That is very true, Hawke. I'm impressed. Maybe you will be worthy of a duel, after all."

"Ugh…" Carver let out a disgusted groan.

"A duel? I don't think that would be a good idea. I'm no good at knife wielding, and I don't think that matching magic against blades is a very fair fight. I'd set you on fire before you got within striking distance of me."

Isabela searched Hawke's face for any signs of jest. She found none, and let out a loud giggle. "Oh you sweet, sweet, thing. That isn't the type of duel I had in mind."

Hawke paused for an impossibly long time, before her eyes widened. "Ohh…"

Isabela giggled again. "Now she gets it! I know you've only had the one lover, so if you ever want any lessons, you know where my room is."

Carver stuck his fingers in his ears, "I'm not hearing this! I am _not_ hearing this!"

"That's… uh… that's very kind of you to offer, Isabela" the mage said politely, her face blushing darkly.

Isabela shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a giver!"

Hawke never did take her up on her offer, but Isabela noticed a distinct jump in the amount of visits that the teetotaler made to The Hanged Man, from that point on.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

Isabela was well versed in how to read a person's sexual arousal response. Not the obvious signs, like them pawing at her tits, but the more subtle signs: deeper breathing, quickened pulse, pupil dilation, excessive touching of one's own hair, body placement with hips tilted slightly forward.

She had noticed that all of these things seemed to happen to Hawke, whenever she was engaged in a conversation with Isabela. The mage also seemed to blush a lot around Isabela, especially when she was pretending that she'd missed the meaning of one of the pirate's innuendos. Hawke was a subtle woman, but Isabela noticed things, like a sideways glance at her breasts, an accidental touch that lingered for too long, her eyes unconsciously drifting to Isabela's lips during a conversation. The pirate got the feeling that Hawke was attracted to her, but Isabela didn't want to pounce unless it was a sure thing.

Her relationship with Hawke had been difficult, to put it mildly. The young mage carried herself with a youthful innocence that bordered on naivety, yet she showed such vicious skill in battle, that Isabela often suspected that there was a dark side behind it all. Isabela and Hawke's financial futures had been interwoven ever since the night they'd met at The Hanged Man. If Hawke didn't get paid, Isabela didn't get paid, and when Hawke refused a reward based on some ridiculous principle, or she dragged Isabela out on some mission of mercy, the pirate got pissed off.

The conversations that didn't end in Isabela trying to make Hawke blush, often ended in arguments. Isabela couldn't remember a time when she'd been so attracted to someone that she disliked so thoroughly. But then, she didn't often get to know her conquests before she bedded them, and her association with Hawke had felt like nothing but nine months of angry foreplay.

Hawke was after her last few sovereigns, to buy her way into the Deep Roads expedition, and she was grasping at straws. She'd dragged Isabela out of The Hanged Man alone, and they were scouring the Wounded Coast for any valuables that had been washed ashore.

Isabela had thrown back a few whiskeys before Hawke had taken her out, so she was in the mood for flirting, not fighting. "Hawke, when are you going to stop fighting destiny and come to my bed?" Isabela asked in mock sincerity.

"And what makes you think I ever will?" Hawke asked, a small smirk dancing on her luscious lips. Hawke had only just started to respond to Isabela's flirting, although to date, it had been in words only.

Isabela let her eyes travel up and down Hawke's body. "Because, when I see something I like, I go after it. And I nearly always get what I want…"

Hawke giggled. "Nearly isn't always. Perhaps I will be the exception."

"A pretty girl like you spending every night in an empty bed is a tragedy. I'm just trying to do a community service, Hawke. I mean, how long has it _been_?" Isabela continued.

"Since what?"

Isabele sighed. "You like to play dumb when it suits you, but you and I both know that you are as sharp as a blade. _Sex!_ How long has it been since you've had sex?"

"I don't know if I wish to discuss my love life with you, Isabela. I think you have more than enough fodder for your teasing."

"I didn't say anything about your _love_ life, Hawke. I asked how long it's been since someone threw you on a bed and made a woman out of you. The two are not mutually exclusive."

Hawke blushed, her standard response for when she'd gotten out of her depth with Isabela's flirting. "It's been… a while."

"Care to define _a while_ for me, Hawke?" Isabela pressed.

"Long enough that I'm sure _you_ would have curled up into a ball and died by now. Is that definition enough for you?"

Isabela chuckled. She preferred these moments with Hawke, when the Ferelden was relaxed and open to banter. She was thinking up her next line, when she heard a distinctive click under her boot, and knew she'd messed up.

"Shit!" she screamed, as she tackled Hawke over the edge of the path and they rolled down the embankment, landing on the sand below.

Less than a second later, an explosion took place overhead, on the path that they had just been standing on. They hadn't been paying attention, and had stepped into the heavily trapped Tal Vashoth territory.

Hawke had landed on her back, and Isabela had landed on top of her. She savoured the moment of lying on top of the dark haired mage, feeling the curves of her body for the first time. Isabela had imagined this scenario many times, and she instantly felt her heart beat quicken in her chest. The women made eye contact; Isabela's amber eyes were full of lust, Hawke's blue eyes were wide and frightened. Isabela could feel the heat radiating from the mage beneath her, as her pulse beat visibly in her neck.

Isabela leaned in close to Hawke's ear, noticing the floral scent of the mage's hair. She gently nuzzled her neck, before whispering "Don't look so afraid, sweet thing. I have no intention of hurting you. Quite the opposite, in fact."

She felt the mage's back arch, ever so slightly, as she left her warm breath in her ear. She sat up and straddled Hawke, whose chest was rising and falling heavily.

"I'm not afraid" Hawke said, swallowing deeply.

Isabela slowly traced a line with her fingernail from the bottom of Hawke's jaw, to the start of her cleavage. "That's good. But I don't think you're ready yet. When we rut, and we _will _rut, it will be because you've begged me for it. I'm looking forward to that day."

She took in the look on Hawke's face, the blush, the widened eyes, and against every instinct that her hungering body was screaming at her, she climbed off. She stood and extended a hand to help Hawke up, who was looking more confused than ever.

"Maybe we should go back now?" Hawke half asked, half announced, scurrying along the path that led back towards Kirkwall.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

It had been a week since their trip to the Wounded Coast, and Isabela hadn't seen Hawke since.

Maybe the girl truly was straight after all, and Isabela's attentions had been wasted. She certainly seemed interested, but whenever Isabela got close to a breakthrough, Hawke would go and hide, with her tail between her legs, for a fortnight or so. Isabela was busy wondering if her ability to convert women to the fairer sex was waning, when Hawke walked through the tavern towards her.

"It's not much, but I wanted to give you something to say thank you for your help the other day" Hawke said as she handed over a purse. It held 50 silvers, from her own stash, no doubt, her ridiculous sense of honour directing her to pay Isabela for time served.

Isabela waved her hand dismissively. "Keep it, sweet thing, I didn't do anything. Actually, I did worse than that. I almost blew us up."

"Are you sure?" Hawke asked, hesitating with the purse still in her outstretched hand.

"I'm sure. You don't need to pay me when you've made no coin yourself. I don't need your charity."

"I didn't mean it that way…"

"I know, I know, Hawke. I'm not in the mood to fight. Just pull up a seat and we'll have a chat."

Hawke did as she was bid. There was a moment of silence. "Did that hurt?" Hawke asked, curiosity colouring her tone.

"Did what hurt?"

Hawke gently touched the end of Isabela's lip piercing.

Isabela unconsciously touched the inside of the piercing with her tongue. "Oh, that. A little bit. It was years ago, so the pain is a distant memory. But the amount of pleasure it brings has been well worth it."

Hawke cocked her head, eyeing off the piece of gold jewellery that rested just underneath Isabela's lower lip. "What pleasure? How could a piece of gold threaded through your lip possibly bring you any pleasure?"

Isabela threw her head back and barked out a laugh. The things that she could teach this girl! "Not my pleasure, sweet thing, my lovers' pleasure. If you'd ever let me lift your skirt, you'd see what I mean."

"Oh…" Hawke said quietly, with a blush.

The two women fell into another awkward silence. Hawke reached around, pulling out a piece of fruit from her back pocket. "Can I borrow your knife?" she asked, putting the oval shaped fruit down on the bar.

"You can, but why?" Isabela pulled out the blade that hung on her waist.

"Varric told me that you like these. We picked a few when we went to Mount Sundermont yesterday. He said that the peel is tasteless, so it's best to cut them in half, and eat the flesh."

She brought the blade down on the fruit, cutting two perfect halves, and handing one to Isabela. Isabela looked down, and instantly recognised the fruit as a tampini. She had to suppress a laugh at Varric's joke. The oval shaped fruit had a pea-sized, perfectly pink seed in the middle, with soft, light pink flesh surrounding it.

"You realise this looks like a… never mind…" she stopped herself as she watched Hawke's lips gently start nibbling the flesh of the fruit. She made small sucking sounds, and slowly licked the juice off her lower lip. Isabela crossed her legs, suddenly feeling aroused.

"This is a joke, isn't it? Maker's breath, I swear, you're deliberately trying to torture me!" she accused, as Hawke worked the pink seed loose with her tongue.

Hawke looked at her innocently. "Torture you? What are you talking about Isabela? Eat your fruit. Varric said that it's your favourite. It really is delicious."

"Oh, I've eaten the _fruit_, Hawke, I know it's delicious. I think that you are the one that's missing out on that front." She remained fixated as Hawke continued nibbling, sucking and licking her slice of fruit, until all that was left was empty skin.

"Well, I'd better get going. But that was a tasty treat. You should really get started on yours, Isabela. Why don't you use your lip ring on it?" Hawke stood to leave, and gave Isabela a quick wink.

"Andraste's tits! I knew it! I _knew_ it! You cheeky little shit! You may have the others fooled with your innocent act, but I'm onto you! I'm going to get you back for that one of these days!"

Hawke cocked her head, and widened her eyes. "I have _no_ idea what you are talking about, Isabela" she said with an innocent smile, before turning to leave, with Isabela staring at those swaying hips.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

Hawke had somehow gotten the coin together, and would be leaving for the Deep Roads in the morning. Isabela was pissed off. Ten months of tense flirting, combined with their incessant arguing, and she'd never even managed to get between those legs.

Not to mention the ridiculous waste of perfectly good gold. Isabela could live like a queen on 50 gold sovereigns, and instead, Hawke was handing it over to that thief, Bartrand.

In the morning, Hawke would leave for the expedition that would likely get her killed, and it all would've been for naught.

Isabela had already refused to accompany Hawke on her fool's errand, which had, surprise surprise, led to an argument. She wished she could go back and re-do that day at the Wounded Coast. Isabela remembered the sensation of Hawke's breasts heaving beneath her, her blue eyes afire with fear and excitement. She should have at least kissed her.

Isabela sat at the bar, fuming. It was a waste of time, money, and the greatest piece of arse that Isabela had ever seen.

* * *

Hawke and Varric's Deep Road expedition had taken them away from Kirkwall for just over two months. When they finally got back, they were very rich, and _very _angry.

Bartrand's betrayal had been no surprise to Isabela, and she had been the first to say "I told you so" upon Hawke and Varric's return. That did not endear her to either of them, particularly Hawke, who had still been reeling from her own brother's betrayal.

In the time that she'd known them, Isabela had watched the antagonistic relationship between the Hawke siblings go from a simple family rivalry, to something much darker. Even still, Carver joining the Templars, of all things, had been a particularly cruel cut for the oldest Hawke child.

The Deep Roads expedition had been a turning point for Hawke. She'd reclaimed her mother's estate and family title. Overnight, she moved from Lowtown to Hightown, going from the young Blight refugee that Isabela had met the year earlier, to Lady Hawke, the new scion of the Amell family.

The little that Isabela and Hawke did have in common had disappeared, and they had less and less to talk about. When they did talk, it almost always ended in an argument, and the dizzying flirtations that they'd once shared became few and far between.

The one positive that was to be found in Hawke's new social status was the quality of work that came their way. Isabela's lock picking skills were almost always needed, so while she wasn't getting the satisfaction that she really craved from Hawke, she was at least content with the amount of coin that was coming in.


	9. Chapter 9

9

It had been a year since the Deep Road expedition, and Hawke had come in for her weekly briefing. Hawke eyed Isabela off disapprovingly. "Wasting your money on booze again, I see. You know you could have bought a new ship by now, with the amount of coin that you've earned in the last two years?"

"Is this what you've come to speak to me about? I've told you before, if you're not going to sit down and get drunk with me, I simply cannot take you seriously."

"No, I'm not going to get drunk with you, Isabela. I need you for three jobs this week. I can work around your availability, and there will be 6 sovereigns in it for you. Can you do it?"

With a belly full of whiskey, Isabela turned on Hawke. "Stop being a prig and sit down for a drink, or go away!" she slurred.

Hawke sighed. "I see you're in no state to talk business. I'll come back later."

"Ugh… That's all you are these days, _business_. What happened to that sweet little thing, all tits and arse, fresh off the boat? At least I could have a little bit of fun with that girl."

Hawke shrugged. "I have people that rely on me now. I'm sorry if that offends you."

"Well it does! You are probably the most uptight person I have ever met. Some people choose to be free, and some people choose to be tied down by responsibilities. I know which I prefer!"

Hawke rolled her eyes. "You're not free, Isabela, you're just selfish and irresponsible. There's a difference."

Isabela loved it when she successfully baited Hawke. The mage was always more beautiful when she was angry, with a defiant gleam in her eyes and a flush to her cheeks. It was the only way that Isabela could have any fun with Hawke these days. "Why quibble over definitions? Now, leave me to my drinking. Talking to you is exhausting. And boring!"

Hawke scoffed in annoyance. "You are so rude. I don't know why I put up with you!"

Isabela sized the mage up, the whiskey fueling a desire that Isabela had long ignored. Hawke was leaning with her lower back against the bar, arms crossed over her chest, frowning furiously at Isabela. Without putting too much thought into it, Isabela put her drink down and stood in front of Hawke, putting both hands on the bar, on either side of Hawke's waist, positioning herself so that she was in the mage's face.

"And sometimes, Hawke, I don't know why I don't just slap you silly."

Hawke put her arms out at a 90 degree angle from her sides. "Go for it. You have one free shot. Make it a good one. Get it _all _out of your system, then maybe you won't be such an ass to work with!"

She stood against the bar, arms opened wide, eyes closed tight, waiting for the moment of impact. This was a secret fantasy of Isabela's, but she had no idea which way she wanted to play it. Would she slap the smug superiority right off that pretty little face, or would she deal with her _other_ desire?

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

She roughly pressed her mouth into Hawke's, wholeheartedly expecting to be pushed away. Hawke flinched slightly at the contact, and Isabela watched her eyes open in surprise. To Isabela's delight, Hawke closed them again, putting her hands on Isabela's hips and gently pulling her closer. Her lips were soft and warm, and she parted them slightly, welcoming the caress of Isabela's tongue. Isabela adjusted the pressure of her lips to match the more gentle style of Hawke's, still surprised by the mage's reception to her advance.

Isabela's heart fluttered in her chest, while a wave of attraction rolled through her abdomen. She pulled away after a long moment. That had been… unexpected.

"I… uh… Wow. I didn't realise you still felt that way…" Hawke muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"Get a grip, Hawke, I feel nothing for you. I was curious, that's all. Now my curiosity is sated, and we're done here."

Hawke's eyebrows narrowed into a frown as she glared at Isabela. "Maker, you are such a bitch. I don't understand you." Hawke pushed away from the bar and made her way through the small crowd of gawking men that had gathered. She left without a backward glance.

Isabela turned back to her drink, trying to ignore the tingling of her lips. _What in the Void was that?_ she wondered to herself. She wasn't big on kissing, as a personal preference. It served no purpose; she much preferred to be thrown on a bed for a good headboard slamming. But that had been different. In her 27 years of life, Isabela had never been kissed like _that_.

Her heart was still racing as she finished her drink. She surveyed the room. A few soldiers, half a dozen sailors, and a tavern wench. One of the soldiers was handsome enough, and looked tall and well built. She considered it, for a moment, but then decided against it. She went to her room alone, and pleased herself, with the memory of that kiss fresh on her mind.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been a week, and Isabela hadn't stopped thinking about her encounter with Hawke at the bar. She hadn't taken a lover for the entire week. She'd actively rejected men who'd propositioned her. She knew what she was craving, and it wasn't a man's touch.

It wasn't just the kiss that was playing on her mind. It was what the kiss could lead to. What did Hawke look like under those robes? What did her breasts feel like? Was she a moaner, or a screamer? What else could she do with that mouth?

She'd wanted this, years ago, but she thought those days were done. Now, one moment of silliness had opened up a whole box of repressed desires.

She'd had just enough whiskey to make an afternoon stroll to Hightown seem like a good idea. The thoughts, the curiosity, it was a madness. She'd pulled on her boots and started walking to Hightown, hoping that good sense would prevail, and she'd turn back.

She stood outside the heavy, ornate, front door. The urge to go inside had not waned. _I can't believe I'm doing this!_

The dwarven butler answered. "Good afternoon, serah. My name is Bodahn, and I currently run the Hawke household. What may I help you with?"

"Is Hawke here?" she demanded.

"May I ask which Hawke you are referring to? Mistress Leandra, or the young Lady Hawke?"

"The young one!" Isabela snapped impatiently.

"At once, serah. Just wait by the fireplace while I announce your arrival."

A few moments later, Hawke appeared at the top of the stairs. She was simply dressed, in a white blouse and a grey pleated skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked as beautiful as ever, but younger than usual. "Isabela, I had not thought to see you here. I'm sorry, I'm not really dressed for a guest" she said graciously as she made her way down the stairs.

_Don't worry, sweet thing, your clothes aren't going to matter, soon enough_, Isabela thought to herself. Instead, she shrugged. "Don't apologise. It's nice to see you out of your formal robes."

Hawke hesitated for a moment, obviously trying to find a hidden insult in those words. Finding none, she continued on in hostess mode. "So, what brings you here, Isabela? Have you come for a tour?"

Isabela chuckled. "Yeah, a tour will do, to start…"

Hawke either ignored Isabela's words, or simply missed their meaning. "Well, the kitchen and servant's quarters are through that door. This is the formal lounge we're standing in, and if you'll follow me through this door, I'll show you the library and study…"

Isabela followed her through a large, dark-wood doorway, and waited until they were just out of earshot of the dwarves. "I was actually hoping you'd indulge me in a _thorough_ tour of your bedroom…" she purred, with her best impish smile.

Hawke turned to her, pausing for a moment. "Why would you want that, Isabela? You've made it quite clear that you hate me."

Isabela sighed. "I don't hate you, Hawke. I just disagree with everything you do and say."

Hawke chuckled. "Oh, well excuse me for confusing the two! But seriously, do you really want to sleep with me?"

"I do not _sleep_, Hawke. I am here for some girly fun. If you're not interested, then I'll go and get my giggles elsewhere…" Isabela turned to leave, hoping Hawke would call her bluff.

"Isabela, wait," Hawke started, and Isabela turned to face her. "I thought you said that your curiosity was sated?"

Isabela shrugged. "Sated. Piqued. Sometimes one can be confused for the other…"

A small smile touched Hawke's lips. "You've been thinking about the other day, haven't you?"

_It's all I think about_, Isabela thought, but to Hawke she said "It's popped into my head, once or twice."

Hawke nodded. "It's been on my mind too. I'm not sure Isabela, it might be a mistake." The mage blushed and fixed her eyes on the ground beneath her. "I'm obviously attracted to you, I believe I demonstrated _that_ the other day, but maybe there are some lines that shouldn't be crossed…"

Isabela pushed Hawke against the nearest bookcase, pressing her body against the mage's, and bringing their lips together. Hawke gave no resistance, passionately returning the kiss, and letting her hands wander down to Isabela's lower back. Isabela didn't break away this time, but instead moved her lips from Hawke's mouth, to her soft, white neck, kissing her way down until she got to Hawke's cleavage. She remembered the day on the Wounded Coast when she'd been so close to doing this, and it fuelled her excitement.

"Isabela... Isabela. Stop." Hawke murmured.

Isabela sighed and moved away in frustration.

Hawke leaned in close. "Just give me a moment to dismiss my servants" she whispered, her voice much huskier than usual.

Isabela's pulse quickened with anticipation as Hawke walked into the other room to get rid of the dwarves. She came back a few minutes later, and leaned against the doorway, beckoning Isabela to follow her upstairs.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

Isabela really hadn't known what to expect from Hawke. The girl could kiss, that much had already been demonstrated, but could she rut? Or would she just lie down like a scared starfish?

As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Isabela pushed Hawke onto the bed, and straddled her, while nimbly unbuttoning the younger woman's blouse.

Isabela felt uncharacteristically nervous. The liquor had started to wear off, and she got caught in her own thoughts. She realised that she hadn't been with a woman for a long time. Years, even. And she normally preferred random encounters. _Once somebody has seen you naked, you lose all power_. She'd known Hawke for two years, and was relying on the continued association. Maybe this _was_ a mistake…

Before she could wrap her mind around her concerns, she'd undone the last button on Hawke's blouse, and exposed white, smooth, skin, a soft, flat stomach, and one of the most exquisite pairs of breasts that Isabela had ever seen.

"Hawke, I had no idea you were hiding _these_ under your robes…" she said as she gently ran one hand over Hawke's left breast, and watched as the skin responded with goose bumps. Hawke giggled and gasped at the sensation.

Hawke's hands were shaking as she started unthreading the lacing on the front of Isabela's tunic.

"Don't be nervous, sweet thing, you're in very good hands…" Isabela whispered as she cupped both of the mage's breasts in her hands and massaged them. They were firm, and the skin was impossibly soft. They were a perfect handful, and both nipples hardened almost instantly under Isabela's touch.

Hawke looked Isabela in the eye and blushed. "It's been a long time. I don't want to be bad at it…"

Isabela chuckled and leaned down, nibbling on Hawke's earlobe. "Don't worry, you won't be bad. I know _exactly_ what to do with you."

Hawke got the last thread of Isabela's tunic undone and threw it onto the floor. Isabela grabbed both the mage's shaking hands and placed them upon her breasts, watching as the mage's eyes widened at the new sensation. "I knew they were big, but these are… wow…"

Isabela laughed. _Wow_ did seem to be the word most commonly associated with them.

Isabela rolled off Hawke and lay beside her. She ran her hand down Hawke's torso, and pulled the down mage's skirt. She dropped it to the ground, then ran a hand up one of Hawke's thighs. She hooked her thumb in her pantyline, and Hawke inhaled audibly as Isabela slowly worked the little red undergarments down the mage's shapely legs, until they were added to the pile on the floor.

"You need to breathe, sweet thing..." Isabela reminded Hawke, who had yet to exhale.

Isabela leaned over and kissed Hawke. If the girl proved to be nothing else, she was certainly a good kisser. Isabela pulled away and drew her thumb along Hawke's lower lip. Hawke put her mouth over it and sucked it. Isabela withdrew it, and placed her mouth back onto the mage's, tasting her lips and tongue.

She slid her hand down between Hawke's legs, and Hawke jolted as Isabela used the pad of her wet thumb to gently stroke her. It really had been a long time for Hawke, whose sensitive little body was being wracked with pleasure within a few moments.

"Uh-uh, sweet thing, not yet…" Isabela said, removing her hand as Hawke's moans began to intensify, "I've got lots more to do to you before you're allowed to do _that_."


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

Isabela had convinced herself that if she bedded Hawke, the memory of the kiss would stop plaguing her thoughts. Instead, the afternoon that they'd spent between the sheets had driven Isabela insane. Unbidden thoughts and flashes of memory haunted her. Her flesh prickled unconsciously as phantom finger nails dragged themselves lightly down her back.

Hawke had been a surprise package. She was nervous and inexperienced, but she was a quick learner, and her skills had increased over the course of the afternoon as her confidence grew. Isabela was glad that the servants had been sent away, as the shy young mage turned out to be remarkably vocal. And the things she could do with her magic…

Isabela had fought the urge to go back to Hawke's mansion dozens of times. Isabela's "love them and leave them" policy was strict. She had a reputation to maintain. Going back for a repeat performance would set a dangerous precedent. _But if Hawke happens to come here for another lesson, I'll not deny her… _she reasoned.

It was early evening, one week later, when she got her wish. She hadn't seen or heard Hawke's approach, as she stood at the bar swapping tales with the young serving man. A pair of hands appeared on her hips and slowly slid their way to the front of Isabela's stomach, while a warm body pressed against her back. Isabela stopped what she was saying mid-sentence, and the barkeep's eyes widened in interest. A familiar, flowery smell, entered her nose, as a set of teeth gently nipped at her earlobe.  
_  
_"Is-aaaaa-bel-aaaaa…" Hawke singsonged quietly in her ear.

A smile spread to Isabela's lips. "Yes, Hawke? What can I do for you?" she answered innocently.

Hawke pressed her mouth against Isabela's ear. "How about you take me to your room, and let me sail your seven seas?"

Isabela let out a girlish giggle. "A pirate themed pick up line? I like it. Tell me, how long did it take you to come up with that?"

"Oh, I've been working on that one since you left my house. Why else do you think it's taken me a week to get here?"

Isabela laughed. "Well, with lines like that, how could I say no? Follow me…" Isabela took one of Hawke's hands, and led her through the empty tavern and up the stairs, leaving the bartender staring, with his mouth slightly agape.

Once they got into the bedroom, Hawke shut the door and stood behind Isabela. She reached around the front and started unlacing Isabela's tunic, while gently nuzzling her neck. "I can't stop thinking about the other day…" she whispered as she got the last fastener undone, and the tunic fell to the floor.

Isabela stood naked, besides her black undergarments and boots, and let out an involuntary gasp as Hawke's warm lips kissed bare shoulder.

"I have that effect on... ohhh" her words were cut off when Hawke slid her fingers inside Isabela's undergarments and started switching them between hot and cold. Isabela turned her head and met with Hawke's lips, and they kissed passionately as they both moved towards the bed.

When they were done, and Isabela's legs had finally stopped shaking, Hawke sat up gracefully and started to pull on her light blue robes.

Isabela sat up and looped an arm around Hawke's waist. "That was _nice_. You're a quick learner, Hawke."

Hawke giggled. "I have a good teacher."

"I hope you're talking about me, and there's not some hidden reason that you live so close to the Blooming Rose…" she teased, gently biting Hawke's neck.

"Oh, ha ha. If that were the case, I'm sure you would've seen me in there on one of your many trips…"

"Ooh, touché." She watched the younger woman pull on her black, ankle height boots, and quickly lace them up. "Why are you in such a hurry? Maybe I'm not done with you yet…?"

Hawke laughed softly. "You'd like another go would you? Okay, get on your back…"

Isabela felt the weakness in her legs, and thought it was probably best not to call the 22-year-old's bluff. "Maybe not tonight…" she murmured.

"Well, I won't outstay my welcome. I think I know you well enough to know that cuddles and conversation are not on the agenda."

Isabela paused for a moment. She was starting to despise Hawke's company a lot less. She found herself strangely tempted to spend more time with the girl, but she didn't want to confuse the issue at hand. "Good, well, I'm glad that you know that much about me. It's always awkward when I have to kick someone out."

Hawke leaned over and kissed Isabela lightly on the cheek. "I had fun, Isabela. I hope we can do it again…"

_Definitely_! Isabela thought, but instead she said, "Hmm… maybe… I haven't decided."

Hawke stood and made her way to the door. "Well, my door is always open for you. Goodnight Isabela. I hope you sleep well." And with that she stepped through the door and into the rowdy tavern, while Isabela drifted off to sleep, with a smile on her face.


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

"So… Rivaini, I've been trying to give you girls your privacy, but I've got to ask. This thing you've got going with Hawke, is it serious?"

Isabela swallowed her mouthful of mead, and looked at the dwarf appraisingly. "And what _thing_ would that be, Varric?"

Varric scoffed. "Pfft, Isabela, you wound me! I may be short, but I'm not stupid! I live here too! How many times have you carried her to your bedroom this week? It's been twice, by my count, but, maybe I've missed a few? And I wouldn't exactly describe either of you as quiet!"

_It was three times, actually,_ Isabela corrected in her head. It had been over six months since their first afternoon together, and now Isabela and Hawke made an excuse to be together most nights. If it wasn't Isabela taking a nice midnight "stroll" in Hightown, it was Hawke coming to The Hanged Man for an impromptu "drink." Since the weather had been better, Hawke had started taking Isabela on "patrols" around The Wounded Coast, which more often than not finished in both women being in some state of undress.

Isabela sighed. "No, Varric, not that it's any of your business, but Hawke and I have an arrangement. It's not serious…"

"None of my business? I think that every man in Kirkwall would like to make it their business! You two haven't been particularly discrete."

Isabela frowned. "You haven't started writing one of your stories about us, have you?"

Varric laughed. "Oh, perish the thought! The experienced, older, pirate, seduces the young, innocent, mage. Their legs intertwine, their bosoms heave, their lips merge. You're right, there wouldn't be an audience for that!"

Isabela had to concede that point, it was a good story. "You have me there. Can you at least give us some good pseudonyms? If I hear the tale of Isabelle and Harke, I will have to kill you, if only to spare you the torture that Hawke will inflict on you."

"Wow, you're pretty good at dancing around the question, Isabela. Seriously, what's going on with you two? The whole time we've lived here, you've had a pretty steady stream of _friends_ visit your room. Now, it's mostly just Hawke. And when you do take a man to your room, you no longer shake the walls with your wailing. "

In truth, things had changed between her and Hawke. Hawke had quickly become the best lover that Isabela had ever experienced, her attentiveness and desire to please putting her head and shoulders above the rest. But it was more than that. Isabela found herself actually enjoying the mage's company, even when they weren't in bed. And, when they were bed, it had become common for them to lie around together, swapping stories, telling jokes and, occasionally, Isabela would let Hawke touch her in such a way that might be described as _cuddling_. When Isabela did take another new lover, which was becoming rarer and rarer, she felt a strange emptiness, and found that nobody else was able to completely satisfy her.

Isabela took a big swig of her mead, before confidently telling the lie. "It's nothing. She's a tiger in the sack, that's all. I feel nothing for her. Don't go reading into it, it's just sex."

Varric put up both his hands in surrender. "Hey, whatever you say, Rivaini. I don't want to interfere because, I mean, you and Hawke… _hot!_ But, are you sure that Hawke feels the same way? She doesn't strike me as a girl that enters into these things lightly. And I've seen the way she looks at you…"

Isabela shifted uncomfortably and stared into her mead. "Hawke is a grown woman, Varric, not a fool, and not a child. You don't need to fawn over her like some distant father-figure. She knows exactly what's going on."

Varric shrugged and sighed. "Okay, I know when I'm overstepping a boundary. Fair enough. But, just please don't hurt her, Rivaini. She's a sweet kid, and she's known a lot of sadness in her life. I hope that you won't add to that. Be gentle with her."

"Yes Varric…" Isabela said, rolling her eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

**14**  
**3 months later**

Hawke's voice cut through the chilled, silent air. "It's a pretty night, isn't it? I love it when the stars are out…"

Isabela rolled her eyes, but answered. "You haven't seen anything until you've been out on the open ocean on a starry night."

Hawke smiled. "You'll have to take me some time."

Isabela ignored that. They walked shoulder to shoulder, through the twisting paths of the Wounded Coast. Hawke took one of Isabela's hands in her own and interlinked their fingers.

"What's this?" Isabela asked, looking down at the public display of affection with discomfort.

"What? Nobody's around…" Hawke muttered. Isabela let it happen, wondering when Hawke was going to stop this charade and find a cozy place for them to get to business.

Hawke cleared her throat. "So… I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner one night this week?"

"No" Isabela replied curtly.

"Well… that was direct…" Hawke said, disappointment written on her face.

"What were you expecting? I don't do dates. You of all people should know that."

"What do you call this, then?" Hawke asked, gesturing with her free hand at the starry sky and lapping waves.

Isabela let out an exasperated sigh. "I call this you wasting time, when you should be rutting me on the shoreline."

Hawke separated their fingers, and took her hand back, leaving Isabela's feeling strangely limp hanging at her side.

"I'm sorry, did I ruin the romantic evening you had planned? Cut the nugshit, Hawke, we both know what we come out here for" Isabela said impatiently.

Hawke started walking faster. "Well, it's very clear what _you_ come out here for. Maker as my witness, you have the one-track mind of an adolescent boy. Can't two friends just take a walk?"

"We're not friends, Hawke. We're playmates. Nothing more, and nothing less."

Hawke nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. You keep reminding me, and for some blighted reason, I keep forgetting."

"That's nobody's fault but your own, Hawke."

Hawke stopped walking. "You know what? I'm no longer in the mood for a walk. I'm going back to the city. You can come if you'd like. Or stay out here by yourself. I don't really care, either way." She turned and started walking in the direction that they'd come from.

Isabela was tempted to let Hawke leave in her pissy mood, but she hadn't been dragged 30 minutes outside of Kirkwall for nothing. She tackled Hawke to the ground, and lay on top of her, pressing her curves into Hawke's body. "Do you remember the first time I did this? It wasn't far from here. Your heart was beating like a scared baby bird."

Hawke ran her hands over Isabela's hips. "Yes, I remember."

"You've changed a lot since then. The baby bird has learned to fly."

In a fluid motion, Hawke flipped Isabela onto her back and straddled her. She leaned down and kissed her, gently sucking on Isabela's lower lip. Hawke pulled away from the kiss and put her forehead against Isabela's. "Do _you_ remember the first time that you had me pinned here? You told me something important."

Isabela started working on the fasteners at the front of Hawke's robes. "Hmm… that I was going to rut you silly one day. And I _have_."

Hawke shook her head. "You said that I wasn't ready for you. And that you'd wait. Well, I'm telling you the same thing. You and I… we're more than you think we are. You don't want to admit it yet, and I'll respect that. But when you're ready, I'll be waiting. Because I think you're worth it."

Hawke pushed her mouth back onto Isabela's in a passionate kiss, stifling the pirate's reply.


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

Isabela had become an expert at picking the lock on Hawke's front door. Hawke had offered to leave it open for her, but Isabela insisted that she liked the challenge. In truth, for the first time ever, she was putting a lover's safety above her own convenience. Hawke had done many great things for Kirkwall, but had made a lot of enemies within its seedy underbelly. An open front door would be an invitation for trouble.

Isabela felt the satisfying click as the lock gave way, and she quietly let herself into the house. She was naturally light footed, and she loved the nights that she was able to sneak in undetected, and wake Hawke up by pressing her body against her as she slept naked. She was hoping to surprise Hawke in such a way tonight, except that when she walked in, Hawke was sitting in front of the fire, waiting for her. There were two wine goblets laid out on the table, next to a small dish filled with brown chunks of food, and a small, red, velvet bag.

"I'd hoped you would come tonight…" Hawke whispered, her eyes lit up by the roaring fire.

"You were waiting for me?" Isabela asked, confused by what she'd walked in on.

Hawke stood and pulled Isabela towards her, wrapping her arms around her in an embrace. "Yes. Happy name-day, Bela" she said, leaving a light kiss on Isabela's cheek.

"How did you know that?" Isabela felt instant discomfort in the romantic surroundings.

Hawke smiled. "How does anyone in Kirkwall know anything? Varric, of course."

Isabela rolled her eyes. Yes, of course it was Varric. He'd been interfering and trying to make a love affair out of what was a simple fling, for nearly a year now. "What is all this?" Isabela asked suspiciously.

Hawke shrugged. "I thought you might like to celebrate."

"I don't know why you'd think I would want to celebrate turning 28…"

Hawke smiled. "Because that's what people do. I imported some Orlesian wine, and a new dessert that they call chocolate. I thought you might like to try them?"

Isabela nodded stiffly, "Alright… I'll try them, if you do too?"

"Hmm… okay, for you. It's a special day. Please, take a seat." Hawke went and fetched the wine skin. She filled Isabela's goblet, and half-filled her own.

Isabela drank deeply, sitting back contentedly. "Mmm, that's very good wine, Hawke. It must have cost you a packet."

Hawke smiled and sipped hers slowly. "It was worth the investment, just to see you smile. The merchant helped me choose it. I don't know much about wine. This is my first drink, actually."

"Your first drink _ever_? You can can't be serious, Hawke. You're 23."

Hawke nodded. "I know, but, I'm a mage. It took me a long time to master my power, and I like to be in control of it. I doubt you'd appreciate it if I got drunk and turned into an abomination."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Must you be _so_ serious all the time? Maker, relax, maybe even have some fun once in a while!"

Hawke laughed awkwardly. "Sorry. Old habits. Growing up an apostate… I wasn't encouraged to have friends, or get close to people. I guess I'm not particularly skilled, socially, but I am trying to be more fun, for you."

"Well, you have other skills that make up for it…" Isabela said, running a hand up Hawke's thigh.

Hawke rubbed her forehead. "At least that's something, I suppose. Here, try the dessert."

She held out the dish and Isabela picked up a piece of the chocolate, and put it into her mouth. It was the single most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. "Shit, Hawke, that stuff is better than sex!"

Hawke giggled. "I'm glad you like it. That's two wins for me. Let's see if I can get a third." She reached over to the table and picked up the gift bag. "I have a present for you, if you'd like it. I saw it in the Lowtown Bazaar, and it made me think of you."

Isabela accepted the bag hesitantly. She opened it, and pulled out a thin gold chain, with an ornate talisman on the end. She recognised it immediately. "Umm… I see…" she said awkwardly.

Hawke groaned. "You don't like it? Sod it, I've always been a terrible gift giver. It's Rivaini. I thought… ah, it was silly. If it's not your type of thing, I'll just dispose of it."

Hawke reached out to take it back, but Isabela tightened her grip on it. "No, no, it's not that. It's… Do you know what this is?"

Hawke nodded. "It's a necklace."

Isabela couldn't help but smile. "It's a fertility talisman. Do you see these petals? They symbolise a certain… fleshy part, and this protrusion symbolises… well, you get my drift…"

Hawke dropped her gaze to the floor, embarrassment marking her features. "Ohh… yes… I see it now. I thought it was a flower."

Isabela thumbed the talisman. "Rivaini women wear them, when they want their wombs to be fruitful, and their marriages to be blessed with many children. They also wear them, when they're wishing for love…"

Hawke's head shot up and her eyes locked on Isabela at the mention of the word. "I'm sorry, I've made you uncomfortable. I'll get rid of it. I'll try to get you something better."

Isabela shook her head. "No, don't apologise. You didn't know what it meant. I'd like to keep it. It will be nice to have something to remind me of my homeland. Thank you, for the gift, Hawke. And everything else. This was all very thoughtful."

Hawke's face lit up. "You're welcome, Isabela."

Isabela tried to shake off the moment that had just passed. She took Hawke's hand, and pulled her towards the stairs. "I'm terrible with thank yous. Follow me, and I'll show you what I mean, in your bedroom…"


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

Isabela absentmindedly fiddled with the fertility talisman that she now kept in her pocket. She couldn't remember ever receiving a gift before in her life. Her mother had been too poor, her husband had been too cruel, and she'd never been close enough to anybody else.

It didn't mean anything. The wine, the chocolate, the gift, the fire. The slow, gentle way that Hawke had brought her to climax. The way Isabela had almost been convinced to sleep the night. It was all meaningless. And she was intent on proving that tonight.

He had black stubble and tough, thick hands. She didn't know his name, nor did it matter. She was full of ale, and she would be taking him upstairs with her. Hawke didn't own her, and she owed the mage no loyalty. The fact that it had been months since she'd bedded anyone else was due to sheer circumstance, not the fact that it made her feel guilty and dirty when she did.

He pushed her against her bedroom door, and lifted her in the air, pinning her in place. He unbuckled himself, and pushed her undergarments to the side. As he roughly entered her, she was disappointed to feel that his bravado about the size of his manhood had been for naught. He found a spot in the nook of Isabela's neck, and sucked it hard, leaving his mark. After a few minutes of pounding her against the door, he was spent, and he withdrew himself, buckling his pants back up.

Isabela stood against the door, wondering why she'd bothered. He leaned in for a kiss on his way out, and she jerked away quickly, slamming the door behind him. She lay in her bed, looking at the ceiling. She felt nauseous, and not from the ale she'd drunk. The guilt churned in her belly, making it difficult for her to sleep.

* * *

Isabela had a cloud hanging over her the next day. She didn't know what was wrong with her. So she'd rutted somebody else? Big deal. It hadn't been any good, anyway.

Isabela felt a flicker of panic in her chest as Hawke walked into the tavern that afternoon. The mage greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, pretty girl. I haven't seen you for a few days. I was hoping we could make up for lost time…" she went to kiss her favourite place on Isabela's neck, and violently pulled away when she saw the love bite.

Isabela lowered her head and closed her eyes with shame.

"I… umm… I didn't realise that you were still… doing that…" Hawke's voice became clouded with emotion, and she cleared her throat. "I hope you enjoyed yourself, Isabela" she finished coolly.

Isabela forced herself to look Hawke in the eyes, and was confronted by a face full of hurt and confusion. "I didn't" she said in a rare moment of honesty.

Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, the pain written on every feature. "I scared you, with the name-day stuff, didn't I?"

Isabela nodded tersely.

"This was a good lesson. Now I know what happens when somebody actually treats you well. Thank you for being such a good teacher" Hawke spat out bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Hawke…" Isabela said, barely above a whisper.

"No you're not. And I have things to do. Worthwhile things. I shouldn't have come here. Excuse me." Hawke stormed through the tavern and out of the door.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

Isabela didn't pick the lock on Hawke's door like usual, opting to knock instead. Bodahn answered the door, and Isabela brushed past him.

"Mistress Isabela, where are you going? I must announce your arrival to Lady Hawke!" the dwarf called after her as she climbed the stairs, two at a time.

She burst through Hawke's bedroom door, and found the mage lying on her bed. Her eyes were slightly puffy. Isabela told herself that Hawke had been sleeping, but really, she knew the truth. "Hawke. I need to explain…"

Hawke sat up and shook her head. "Please, please don't. I_ really_ don't want to know."

Isabela knelt in front of Hawke, trying to make eye contact. "The other night, with the wine, and the gift, and the sex, it confused me."

Hawke grimaced. "Maker, you drive me insane. Being with you... I feel like I'm trying to catch a shooting star. Every time I think I've got it, I look down, and I realise it's not a star that I've caught, but a hot coal that's burning my sodding hands off."

Isabela touched Hawke's knee, but had her hand brushed off immediately. "Hawke... I thought you understood what was going on between us. I am no shooting star. I'm just... me. The other night was... very kind of you, but unnecessary."

Hawke sighed sadly. "I was just trying to be nice. I thought you'd like it. If I'd realised you would run off and fuck someone else because of it, I would've enchanted the locks and gone to sleep. Don't worry, I will _never_ repeat this mistake again."

It had taken her half a day and a bottle of rum, but Isabela had realised that she really didn't want to lose what she had with Hawke. However, she couldn't afford to get in any deeper either, so her next words needed to be chosen carefully. "I did like it. It was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. It just… isn't what I'm looking for from you. You know I need my freedom."

Hawke exhaled in frustration and ran her hand through her hair. "You are _free_, Isabela. I am not your husband. I don't want to own you and keep you as a pet. I wish you'd stop punishing me for the way that bastard treated you."

"This wasn't a punishment, Hawke, it was sex. It just… happened."

Hawke's face became overcome by bitterness. "You're right, it wasn't a punishment. This is who you are, and I let myself forget that fact. You've promised me nothing, and I jumped to a silly assumption all on my own. I just thought that after all this time, maybe… I was enough. I thought that you were happy. Ah, forget it. I don't want to talk anymore. Leave me be."

Isabela ignored the dismissal, for the first time, in a long time, being concerned with somebody else's feelings. "You do make me happy, Hawke. This wasn't about you. What do you want me to say? That I won't do it again? I can't promise that. I _won't_ promise it. You told me you wouldn't tie me down."

Hawke snorted. "Ha, tie you down, that's a laugh. I imagine it _would_ take some sort of physical restraint to stop you from bedding everyone you've ever met. Showing me the respect of discretion might have been nice, I would've thought I'd at least earned that much." She threw a withering look at the bruise on Isabela's neck.

Isabela bit her lower lip, hurt by the mage's tone. She leaned forwards to kiss Hawke, but the mage put a firm hand in the middle of Isabela's chest, preventing her from moving any closer. "I don't know if I can do this anymore. I want you to leave, Isabela. I'll come by when I'm ready to talk."

* * *

It had been a torturous fortnight. Hawke hadn't come by, and Isabela was starting to doubt that Hawke was ever going to come by. Maybe a clean break _would_ be for the best. Isabela felt herself developing continuously deeper feelings for Hawke. The fact that she had any feelings for the girl at all was a problem in itself.

Isabela was in bed, somewhere close to sleep, when she heard a knock on her door. She had developed a reputation over her years at The Hanged Man, and it wasn't unheard of for a lonely sailor or soldier to come and try their luck. She decided not to answer the door. She wasn't in the mood.

The light knocking continued, until she'd had enough. "Whoever you are, and whatever you've heard, you're knocking at the _wrong_ door!"

"It's me…" a familiar voice said quietly.

Isabela unbolted the door, and had barely opened it when a figure came rushing in, pressing their lips to hers hungrily and pushing her down on the bed. Her corset was completely undone and her undergarments had made it down to her knees before she finally got a breath. "Can you at least shut the door first, Hawke?"

Hawke shot a bolt of wind from her hand, and the door slammed shut.

"Learned a new trick, I see?" Isabela asked as Hawke kissed her way down the pirate's neck.

"Mmmhmm" was Hawke's only reply as her mouth found Isabela's breast, her tongue caressing a nipple.

Isabela lost her train of thought as Hawke moved her talented mouth down the pirate's body, catching the undergarments in her teeth and dragging them the rest of the way down the pirate's toned, tanned calves.

"Hawke... Are you sure this is what you want? After what you said the other night..."

"Stop speaking…" Hawke whispered as she ran her tongue up Isabela's thigh.

Isabela squirmed with delight as her knees got thrown over Hawke's shoulders and the mage's soft mouth moved between her legs. A moment later, Isabela's taut abdomen tensed as she propped herself up on her elbows. She looked down at Hawke to see what the new sensation was, and the mage was watching for her reaction.

"What are you doing down there?" she asked between deep breaths.

Hawke paused for a moment. "Do you like it?"

Isabela nodded vigorously. "Do you want me to... stop?" Hawke asked slyly.

"No! Don't stop!" Isabela commanded, pushing Hawke's face back down.

Hawke continued on, and Isabela had to hold herself back from exploding prematurely like an undersexed adolescent. After a few minutes though, she could take no more, moaning Hawke's name loudly as she clamped her muscular thighs down. Hawke gave her a hard smack on the arse, signalling for Isabela to release her.

Hawke looked up, red in the face and breathless from her near suffocation, but pleased with herself, nonetheless.

"What was that?" Isabela asked as her body was still being wracked by the aftershocks.

Hawke laughed and sat up. "I was making my tongue vibrate with static electricity. Was it good?"

Isabela arched her back as another wave took her. "Maker, yes. I wish I was a mage sometimes, just to pay you back."

Hawke scoffed. "You don't have the subtlety to be a mage. You'd go around giving magical blowjobs to most of Kirkwall and then complain when you got sent to the Gallows." She stood and headed for the door.

"That's not fair, I'll have you know I can be very subtle. Where are you even going? We're not done. You haven't had your turn yet."

Hawke shook her head. "I'm not going to have a turn. That's your late name-day present. I thought you might appreciate this one. Sex seems to be the only language you know how to speak."

Isabela reached out. "Hold on, you don't get to just hand out an orgasm like that and then run away. You know I'm all about equal opportunity, and a one-sided duel is not my style. Come back to bed, Hawke."

"I'll see you around, Isabela" Hawke said as she opened the door and closed it shut quickly behind her, leaving Isabela exhausted, aroused, and possibly even more confused than before.


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

**1 month later**

They settled into a strange new place. Isabela had once heard a saying; _Forgive, but don't forget_. She had the feeling that Hawke was following that mantra closely. Isabela and Hawke still saw each other frequently, and still had back-arching, sheet-gripping, shoulder-scratching sex, but something had shifted within Hawke.

Isabela knew that Hawke still had feelings for her, she could see it in the younger woman's eyes, feel it in her touch and taste it on her lips, but the mage kept them private, guarding herself closely. Her days of romantic gestures and affection were gone - something for which Isabela thought she would be grateful, but found herself missing.

It was suddenly rare for Hawke to stay more than two minutes post-orgasm, and she often left Isabela feeling bewildered and confused as she sat alone in an empty bed.

Isabela couldn't blame Hawke for keeping her at arm's length. Hawke was the jealous type, and Isabela knew that she had caused her pain. It had been unfortunate, but probably for the best. Hawke had needed a reality check, and Isabela had given it to her, as much as she'd hurt herself in the process of doing it.

* * *

**6 months later**

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Hawke. Willingly walking into the Gallows to serve the templars… it's like you _want_ to get caught."

Hawke shook her head. "Cullen is different, Bela. He knows what I am, and he turns a blind eye. I'm of more use to him free, than locked in the Circle. Plus, I'm not doing this for the templars, I'm doing it for Feynriel."

Isabela rolled her eyes. There was that famous Hawke sense of honour.

Hawke hesitated for a moment. "There's the Knight-Captain. He'll take us through to the chamber where they'll perform the ritual. Are you sure about this, Isabela? I appreciate you offering to help, but a non-mage coming into the Fade while conscious is almost unheard of…"

Isabela gave her a playful push. "Frolicking in dreams? It sounds like an experience. Of course I'm game!"

"It will not be fun. There will be demons in there. They can sense my power, so they usually know better than to try to approach me, but you might give them an indirect route."

"Give me some credit, Hawke, I can handle this. I _never_ give in to temptation."

Hawke shot Isabela her best _you-must-be-sodding-joking_ look, but led the way. They crossed the courtyard and approached a handsome looking templar, with sandy blonde hair and a strong jawline.

"Knight-Captain Cullen, it's nice to see you again!" Hawke greeted the templar with an outstretched hand and the type of smile that she usually reserved exclusively for Isabela.

Cullen took the outstretched hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the back of it. "Well, if it isn't my favourite apostate! You are looking lovely, as usual, Lady Hawke."

Hawke blushed lightly, and Isabela felt her chest tighten and her neck get hot. She eyed the templar off with anger and suspicion.

"Cullen, this is my friend, Isabela," Hawke said as she gestured to Isabela. "She'll be accompanying me into the Fade during the ritual."

Cullen bowed his head in greeting. "Ah, Lady Hawke's constant companion. Your reputation precedes you, Captain Isabela. It's very nice to meet you."

Isabela narrowed her eyes at him, and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just so we're clear, she likes women. Rivaini women, especially."

Hawke cocked her head and a small smirk touched her lips as she stared at Isabela, while Cullen paused awkwardly. "Er... so I see. If you'd both like to follow me, I'll lead you to the ritual chamber."

He walked side by side with Hawke, making polite conversation, while Isabela followed a few feet behind, eyeing off the scene. Hawke giggled at one of his comments, and flicked her hand through her hair. _He must be at least 30, far too old for her. And a templar, of all things!_ Isabela mused in angry silence.

They entered the Circle chambers and were ushered down a long corridor and into a large room. There were several mages lining the walls, and a young, blonde haired mage boy, assumedly Feynriel, lying asleep on a bed in the centre. There were two empty beds beside him.

"Lie down, Isabela, get comfortable" Hawke instructed, motioning towards one of the beds.

"You've got a lot of nerve ordering me to bed like that, with your robes still on" Isabela spoke in a low voice.

Hawke smiled involuntarily. "Yes, well, once we're done here, we can stop by my house and I'll rectify that."

Isabela pursed her lips. "Mmm… good. Maybe you can bring your little templar friend along for us to share?"

Hawke frowned. "_That_ won't be happening."

"Oh, by all means. You obviously want to, and I'm always game…" Isabela purred, getting close enough to Hawke that the mage blushed in front of the onlookers.

"How very generous of you. I'll be sure to let you know if I ever change my mind. Now, enough of your misbehaving. Get on your bed, or you'll pay for it later."

Isabela loved it when Hawke was bossy, and her lips curled into a flirty smirk. "Yes, _Lady Hawke_, immediately."

She took her place on the bed, and Hawke took the one beside her.

"I'll see you in there" Hawke said softly, as a senior mage moved over to Isabela and gently put his hands on her head, while a soft blue light overtook her vision.


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

Isabela had sat at the table for most of the day, waiting for any news on Hawke. She had felt like a coward, scurrying away from the Gallows, but after what Cullen had told her when she regained consciousness, she couldn't stay.

_"If the demon manages to trick her, she will become possessed, an abomination. If she resists the demon, but falls in battle, she will become a tranquil."_ The words were still echoing in her mind. She had felt her blood go cold when he had said them. Hawke had described tranquility as a fate worse than death.

Isabela had betrayed Hawke. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear the demon's voice whispering in her ear, and feel her lover's flesh and bone give way as Isabela brought her blades down on her chest.

It was late afternoon, when Hawke finally walked into the tavern. "Hawke, you're okay!" Isabela announced, relief seeping into her voice.

"We need to talk, Isabela" Hawke said, taking a seat across from her lover.

Isabela dreaded the conversation, and decided to skirt around it. "So… that was the Fade? That felt like a night I spent in Antiva drinking spoiled rum. I don't recommend doing either!"

Hawke laughed softly. "It isn't so bad, once you're used to it."

Isabela took a quick look at Hawke's face. She looked tired, but not angry, and Isabela knew that she would have to broach it eventually. "I'm sorry that I turned on you, Hawke. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know that. The demon got into my head, and all I could think about was that ship and the open ocean."

Hawke touched Isabela's hand across the table. "It's okay, Bela, I forgive you. I know what it's like to have a demon try to tempt you. Pitting you against a _desire_ demon, of all things. The Maker certainly has a sense of humour…"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh… nothing. It was my fault anyway, I shouldn't have taken you with me. It was too dangerous."

"Dangerous for _you_, maybe. What were you thinking?! Why didn't you tell me what would happen if you died in there?"

Hawke shrugged. "I've spent a lot of time in the Fade. I know how to handle myself in there. Granted, taking a couple of twin blades to the chest posed an unexpected challenge, but I made it through."

Isabela dropped her gaze again. "I can't believe I did that. I don't know how you're even talking to me now."

Hawke smiled gently. "Don't beat yourself up. I'll take you upstairs and give you a good spanking, that should make us even."

Isabela let a giggle escape her lips. "Oh? You mean, your templar didn't wear you out once all those pesky mages had left the room? Why not? Are you worried that once he's experienced you in bed, he won't refer to you as a _lady_ any more?"

Hawke sat back and crossed her arms with a smug smile on her face. "I'll admit, the world of intimate relationships is not my speciality, but I think I'm detecting a note of jealousy. That can't be right though, can it, Isabela?"

Isabela thought for a moment. She _was_ jealous. Very jealous. And Hawke could never, ever know. "You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? Is that why you were throwing yourself at him? To try to make me jealous?"

Hawke cocked her head. "Until this moment, I would've thought the Knight-Captain and his entire army could've bent me over the steps of Templar Hall and played "punish the apostate", without making _you_ jealous. But no, that's not what I was doing. Cullen is a good man, and my friend."

Isabela eyed Hawke off. She had the same sincere look on her face that she always had. "Well, I wasn't jealous, so if that was your plan, you failed. I don't care who you screw, as long as you save some of your energy for me."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Really? That's strange. Apparently, my tastes only extend as far as Rivaini women..."

Isabela wanted to stab herself in the hand for letting that slip out. The jealousy had cropped up so abruptly, she hadn't had time to contain it. "Well, all evidence points to it being true" she muttered defiantly.

Hawke frowned at her, frustrated by the denials. "Maker, you and your games. You're a complete hypocrite, by the way. I hope you know that."

Isabela laughed."Ooh you're angry. Yes, keep it up. I love it when you're angry."

Hawke rubbed her face with both hands, as if trying to wash off the irritation. "_Why_? Why must you bait me so?"

Isabela stood and walked around the table, standing behind Hawke and putting a hand on either shoulder. "Because you bring so much more… _energy_… to your performance when you're angry."

Hawke shook her head in disbelief. "You'd rather make me angry than happy? I will never understand you…"

"No, I'd rather make you angry, _then_ happy."

With a sigh, Hawke stood and faced Isabela. "I've had a really draining day. We can go upstairs to kiss and make up, or I can go home to sleep it off…"

Isabela leaned in, bringing her lips to within an inch of Hawke's lips. "Hmm… I vote for the kiss, depending on where you're offering to plant it."

Hawke giggled and blushed. "I think the person who did the stabbing should be the one doing the kissing."

"Oh do you? Well I had something of a more... tandem nature... in mind."

Hawke's blush deepened. "Did you now? You on top?"

Isabela took Hawke's hand and started leading her to the bedroom. "Aren't I always?"

She heard a quiet scoff behind her. "You wish..."


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

**4 months later**

"Ugh… Hawke, not tonight." Isabela lay on her bed in the only position she could find comfortable, with a cold cloth laid on her shoulder.

"I'm not here for that, Isabela" Hawke said quietly, closing the door behind her.

"What do you want then? I don't have the patience for your prattle tonight!" Isabela growled.

"I know you're in pain, so I'll let that one slide, but you need to stop being a bitch and let me help you." Hawke removed the cloth from Isabela's shoulder, and took a sharp breath. "Bela, this is pretty bad. Let me take you to Anders."

"No! I can't stand that man. I just need a drink and a good night's sleep."

Hawke sighed. "Isabela, you took a knife to the back. You need more than whiskey and a few hours of rest. Roll onto your stomach please."

"Why?" Isabela asked suspiciously.

"Because you have an open wound that I need to look after. This won't compare to what Anders could do for you, but I think he'd get far too much enjoyment from seeing your tits for my liking, anyway."

Isabela laughed and grimaced in pain as the movement hurt the stab wound. Hawke helped Isabela shift from the awkward side-lying position she was in, to her stomach.

Hawke laid a soft hand on her back. "I'm apologising in advance, and for the next 30 seconds, you can say whatever you'd like to me. I need to clean this wound, and cauterise it. It's going to hurt like the Void. You can bite down on one of my gloves, if you'd like?"

"Just do it, Hawke" Isabela snapped.

She nearly passed out from the wave of agony that took over her shoulder as Hawke poured the alcohol into it. "Argh you shit-bitch-son-of-a-whore!" she screamed into her pillow.

She felt burning as Hawke aimed a precision flame from her fingertip into the wound. "Maker's balls I hate you, Hawke. By Andraste's tweaked nipples, I will kill you for this!"

She suddenly felt a calming, cool sensation move over her shoulder blade. "What are you doing now?" she demanded.

"I made you a healing salve. I can't have my favourite Rivaini dying of an infection." Hawke finished her application, and put the cool cloth back on Isabela's shoulder. "We just need to wait a few minutes for that to set. Then I'm going to help you sit up. I've brought some soup for your dinner."

She ran her hands through Isabela's hair as she waited for the salve to dry. "I want to talk about today, Bela…"

"I already said that I don't want to hear your prattle."

"You can't let me distract you during a fight like that. I had that swordsman under control. You left yourself open when you attacked him. I appreciate you being protective, but - "

"I wasn't being protective of you, Hawke. If you get yourself killed, the rest of us don't get paid. It's simple economics" Isabela interrupted.

Hawke kissed Isabela in the middle of her bare back. "You don't have to get defensive. You're allowed to care about me. I don't like seeing you get hurt, either."

"Get over it Hawke. I don't give a shit if you get hurt. I just want my money."

Hawke's face fell, like it always did whenever Isabela hurt her feelings. "Well, whatever your reasoning, you need to turn it off and concentrate on what you're doing. If that knifeman had gone for your neck instead of your shoulder, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"_We're_ not having this conversation! _You're_ talking, when _I've_ told you to shut up!"

"Maker, the way you speak to me sometimes…" Hawke said in a resigned tone.

"That's right. You're in Lowtown now, Hawke. Your money and title mean nothing here."

Hawke looked at Isabela scathingly. "You think that I want you to be nice to me because my mother's father used to be somebody in this city? You know I don't care about that. I want you to be nice to me because I would walk through fire for you."

Isabela bit back her reply. She was angry with herself, not Hawke. Hawke was right, Isabela had been stupid. She had caught sight of the swordsman backing Hawke into a corner, and panicked. She had abandoned her own duel and sprinted across the length of the warehouse to intervene. Of course, the knifeman that she'd been fighting gave chase, and she wound up with a blade in her shoulder. The damsel in distress that she'd been trying to save ended up setting both their attackers on fire, and Isabela had stormed back to the tavern to lick her wounds.

Hawke pulled the cloth back and took a look at the wound. "Okay, I'm going to help you up now. Let me know if it hurts."

She helped Isabela roll over, and pulled her up by her good arm. Isabela's vision went fuzzy as she grunted in pain. Hawke laid her back down and propped her up on her pillows, pulling a sheet over her naked chest.

"We're going to have to do this the hard way then…" Hawke said, picking up a bowl and spoon.

"You know I don't eat the shit from here" Isabela insisted through gritted teeth.

"I know. I made it for you before I left home" Hawke said softly, putting half a spoonful to Isabela's lips.

"You're not spoon feeding me, Hawke."

"_Isabela_. When was the last time you ate? You can trust me, I'm not going to tell anybody that I saw the great Queen of the Eastern Seas vulnerable. Just eat."

Isabela threw Hawke a scornful look, but opened her mouth and accepted the spoon. It was lukewarm, but surprisingly good. Isabela realised that she was painfully hungry, she hadn't eaten since the night before. Hawke kept spooning, until the bowl was empty. She put it to the side, and gently brushed a piece of hair out of Isabela's face.

"So... you can cook now?" Isabela asked doubtfully.

Hawke nodded. "I wasn't raised in a mansion with servants, you know. Like every Fereldan farm girl, I learned to cook. If you'd ever sat down for a meal with me, you would know that."

"Ugh, I'm not doing this. You should leave. There's no need to fawn over me, I'm fine" Isabela insisted.

Hawke sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to annoy you. I was just concerned."

"Don't be. Just leave, Hawke. You're not my mother."

"No, I'm not your mother. _I_ actually give a shit about you" the mage shot back, at the end of her patience.

Isabela's eyes focused on Hawke. "Get out."

Hawke stood. "Fine. I think I've had enough of your wonderful company, anyway."

Isabela watched in silence as Hawke crossed the room and walked out the door.


	21. Chapter 21

**21**

It was rare for Fenris to host a social gathering. No, not rare. Unheard of. But celebrating his freedom was worth breaking a lifetime of anti-social behaviour. Isabela poured a large glass of whiskey and took a seat next to Merrill, while a rather tipsy Fenris re-enacted his defeat of his former master, Denarius. Isabela only half watched, she'd already heard the story from Hawke.

"I think Hawke really likes you" Merrill said suddenly.

"What? Why do you say that?" Isabela asked innocently.

"Well, she's always looking at you, and then quickly turning away when you notice. She blushes around you a lot, as well. And I suppose all that sex that you two have been having is probably a good sign, too…"

Isabela's jaw dropped, and Merrill continued. "Oh, Isabela, don't be embarrassed. Did you really think that people hadn't noticed? You must think we're all fools!"

"No... I don't think you're fools. Well, yes actually, I was rather hoping you were all too stupid to notice."

Merrill giggled. "Well, we have noticed. Don't be shy. Hawke is beautiful and amazing, and so are you. I think you two will be very happy together."

"It's not like that, Kitten. We're not… together. We're just… entertaining each other. It means nothing."

Merrill eyed Isabela off suspiciously. "It's certainly been going on for a long time, for something that means nothing. Two years, by my count. And Varric says that you stopped taking other lovers quite a while ago…"

"Did he now? Well, I'll need to remember to have a little chat about privacy with Varric later, won't I?"

"_Isabela_, are you blushing? I'm your friend. I'm glad that you've found love."

"I am not _in love_, Merrill. I could tell you stories about Hawke that would curl your toes. She's a shadow-wolf behind closed doors, and that's all there is to it. Now, if you're done with this silliness, I'm getting another drink."

It was true. They had been seeing each for over two years, an unheard of feat for Isabela. She had only taken a handful of lovers since the name-day fiasco, and none at all for almost half a year. It had been simple common sense, and wasn't at all based on feelings, or some sense of monogamy. _Why go to a stranger for bad sex, when I can go to Hawke for good sex?_, had been her reasoning. Of course, Isabela never planned on telling Hawke that she was her only lover, and even if she had, Hawke would never have believed her.

Her and Hawke had been together every night, for… Isabela couldn't even remember the last day that had passed without her bedding Hawke. She still insisted to everyone, including herself, that it was just sex, but by now, even she knew better. She'd never known intimacy like it. It went beyond sex, although having someone that knew her body inside and out certainly had its benefits in that department. She told Hawke things that she had never told anybody, and Hawke listened patiently to every word. She thought about Hawke, even when they weren't together, and when they were together, she felt… _content_.

She glanced across the room at Hawke, who was deep in conversation with Anders. Hawke felt Isabela's gaze upon her, and shot a wink in her direction. Isabela felt a flutter in her belly. _I am in a sodding relationship_, the realisation hit her. _Balls_... _I need more to drink_...

* * *

Isabela opened her eyes. Beams of light poured in through the gap in the curtain, and she immediately registered a splitting headache. Her stomach churned with nausea as she propped herself up onto her elbows and, through bleary eyes, tried to take in her surroundings.

She was naked and in somebody else's bed. She looked around and realised it was Hawke's room. Her clothes and boots were folded at the foot of the bed, and there was a glass of water sitting on the bedside table beside her. She gulped it down thirstily, before sitting up and gingerly dressing herself. She hadn't had a hangover like this in years. Snippets of memories came to her mind, but she realised she had no recollection of getting to the Hawke Estate, or of sleeping with Hawke. She pulled her boots on, and was about to try to stand, when Hawke quietly entered the room.

"Oh good, you're awake. I was just coming to check on you. How's your head?" Hawke smiled, holding out a glass that was full of a green, creamy liquid.

"It feels like I had a herd of Brontos trampled it. And what is this?" Isabela reached for the glass, her voice coming out a rasp.

"I made you some elfroot syrup, for the headache. I had the feeling you might need it."

"What… happened? Last night, I mean. I don't remember much" Isabela asked. She downed the elfroot syrup, which tasted much like it looked, spoiled cream mixed with grass. But the headache started to recede within moments.

Hawke shrugged. "You had too much to drink. Aveline helped me carry you out, and my house was closer than the tavern. I hope you don't mind?"

Isabela inwardly flinched at the thought that Aveline had seen her so drunk. Even more reason for the mannish ginger to disapprove of her. "No, that's okay. I woke up naked. Did we…?"

Hawke shook her head. "No. You woke up for long enough to take your clothes off and ask me to 'steer your ship', but you were in no state. I promise, I was a perfect lady. I even slept on the couch."

Isabela looked at Hawke curiously. Hawke hadn't asked her to sleep the night for a long time, but Isabela knew that she would've liked the opportunity.

"Why did you sleep on the couch? You shouldn't have let me kick you out of your bed."

Hawke laughed softly. "Because I want the first time that you actually sleep in a bed with me to be consensual."

Isabela ignored that. Sleeping in bed with Hawke would mean that the last of Isabela's resistance had crumbled, and she wouldn't allow that to happen. "I'm sorry Hawke, I normally hold my liquor well. I don't know what happened."

Hawke shrugged. "It's okay. You were no trouble. Now, if you want to follow me, I'll make you some breakfast."

Isabela's stomach turned at the idea of food, but she was feeling too weak to resist, so she allowed Hawke to lead her by the hand, down the stairs and into the dining room. An attractive, middle aged woman was already sitting at the head of the table, spooning oats into her mouth.

"Good morning, Mother. I hope you slept well. This is my friend, Isabela. Isabela, this is my mother, Leandra."

Isabela nodded respectfully. "It's nice to meet you."

"Oh hello, Isabela. My daughter has told me so much about you" the older woman greeted Isabela with an insincere courtesy and a phoney smile plastered across her face.

"Take a seat, Bela. I'll get you something to eat. I'll just be a moment." Hawke pulled out a seat at the table for Isabela, and exited through the door to the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence that Isabela felt inexplicably determined to fill. "Your home is lovely…" she said awkwardly.

Leandra's blue eyes locked on Isabela's. Hawke was certainly her mother's daughter, the family resemblance was striking. The mother's face was slightly lined, and her hair was grey, but Isabela was essentially looking at the 50 year old version of Hawke. "Let's not waste time with small talk, Isabela. I assume that you are the rather indiscreet girl who has been warming my daughter's bed for the past few years? Is that accurate?"

Isabela tried not to let the shock show on her face. The older woman had certainly caught her off guard, but Isabela was not one to back down when challenged, so she maintained eye contact. For a moment, she considered telling a lie, but the set look on Leandra's face told Isabela that dishonesty would gain her nothing.

"Aye, that's me. What of it?" she asked, letting a cocky smirk dance on her lips.

Leandra sat back in her seat as her eyes narrowed in appraisal. "You are not what I expected. You are pretty, I will give you that, and I suppose you carry yourself with a certain confidence that one may find enticing. But you are older than I'd imagined, and I'd always thought that my daughter would be attracted to someone a bit more… refined…"

Isabela shrugged. "From what I've heard, you were attracted to a penniless, fugitive, apostate, so maybe good taste doesn't run in the family?"

A bitter smile spread across the older Hawke's face. "Yes, and you've been attracted to a very wealthy apostate. Right when you seem to be down on your luck, and without a ship. What am I to read into that?"

Isabela shook her head. "That's not what this is about. You don't even know me."

"No, I don't know you. But I know my daughter, and you are beneath her. She has been intimate with you for over two years, to the exclusion of all others, and yet you are still unwilling to commit to her. Why? She is kind, she is fair of face, she quite obviously has the ability to please you, based on what I've heard through the walls at night. You clearly want something from her. You seem to be bereft of money, and my daughter has plenty. I'm sure you can see where I am going with this…"

"If coin was what I was after, I would have cut her throat and robbed her the first night that she invited me into her bed."

Leandra seemed to accept that, nodding curtly. "So, if not money, what is it you are after, Isabela? What exactly are your intentions with my only living daughter? She has rejected two marriage matches this month alone, and she is getting too old to waste time. Maker, I was married with three children by the time I was her age..."

Isabela froze under the weight of the question. _What do I want from Hawke? Marriage, children, picket fences and baked apple pies? _Two years ago, Isabela could have answered that question easily. She wanted to rut Hawke until the girl could no longer stand. But now... she wasn't sure what the answer was.

Leandra was searching her face, so Isabela barreled through her next sentence with the same answer she'd been giving people for two years. "I have no _intentions_ with your daughter. This is a fling. It has no meaning. When we are done with each other, she will go her way, and I will go mine."

Leandra cocked her head, and her eyes bore into Isabela. "If you seriously believe that, then you do not know my daughter very well. She is a serious young woman, surely you have seen that? And she is serious about you. She thinks that I am a blind fool, and deaf too, apparently, but I am none of those things. I know about you and her, and I know that she is in love with you. If I thought she was capable of this _frivolity_, I would let her have her fun with you without interference. But she is not. She needs to find a husband, a good one. Somebody who will shout her name from the rooftops, not sneak into her bedroom in the dead of the night. You are holding her back with this... _dalliance_."

Isabela had heard enough, and she angrily leaned forward in her chair. "If Hawke wishes to lie beneath some fat lordling and carry his whelps, she is free to do so. I make no claims on her. But until that time, I suggest you keep your meddling to yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I've lost my appetite."

Leandra smirked. "Noted. I recommend that you think on what I've said though. If you care for her at all, you'll let her go."

"Shut up" Isabela said as she pushed the chair away from the table and stormed out of the dining room, not looking back to see the look of utter satisfaction on Leandra Hawke's face.


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

It took Hawke three days to turn up at The Hanged Man. It had been the longest that Isabela had gone without seeing her for over a year. She _missed_ her, and it was a very uncomfortable feeling. She had made a mistake, and had let this go too far. She didn't want love, or a relationship, or anything that would tie her down. She needed to be free. More importantly, she needed to free Hawke. She knew that now.

"Hello Isabela, you look pretty today. How are you?" Hawke asked, standing beside her lover at the bar, maintaining a short distance.

Isabela didn't look up from her drink. "Hello, Hawke. I'm well, thank you."

Hawke leaned a bit closer. "Can I ask what happened the other day? You'd left before I'd finished making your porridge, and my mother was looking particularly pleased with herself. She has certain... ideas, about how my life should go. Most of them involve involve me spending the rest of my 20's being pregnant. She didn't… say anything to you, did she?"

The truth bubbled in the back of Isabela's mind, but she kept it to herself. Leandra was the last of Hawke's family, and Isabela refused to take that away from her. She gave a dismissive wave. "You know me, Hawke. I'm not the sort of girl that you bring home to meet Mummy. I have no interest in family brunches."

"I know. I wasn't trying to force anything, I just thought you might be hungry. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. " Isabela knew she'd hurt Hawke's feelings, and felt a surge of guilt. "I would've come by sooner, but I thought you might've wanted some space, was I right?" Hawke continued.

Isabela nodded and hazarded a quick glance at her lover's face. "Yes, I do like my space. Actually, I was hoping for a lot more of it. I've enjoyed the last few days, without your constant visits."

Hawke's face dropped and she swallowed hard, before she gathered herself and brought a polite smile to her lips. "It seems that I have misjudged the situation again. I… didn't realise I was forcing my company on you. I apologise for disturbing you. I'll… just leave now."

Isabela grabbed at Hawke's hand as she turned away. Hawke paused, and turned her face in Isabela's direction, but kept her eyes downcast. Isabela pulled Hawke back, so that they were only a few inches apart.

"Maybe we could have a little bit less space, just for right now?" Isabela whispered in her ear, reaching around her waist and drawing Hawke's body into her own. _One more time, to say goodbye. It can't hurt…_

Hawke nodded rigidly, and followed Isabela to her room.

* * *

She was completely sober, with every sense ringing in clarity. She was determined to drink in every moment. She kissed Hawke so slowly and softly that Hawke looked at her in confusion.

Slow and gentle was Hawke's style, rough and passionate was Isabela's. They usually hit the perfect middle ground, working together with a mixture of tender ferocity. It had become as natural to them as breathing, anticipating each other's movements and desires. But today was different. Hawke couldn't read what Isabela was looking for, and all Isabela wanted to do was get lost in the mage's body, one last time.

Isabela tipped her over the bed. She kissed Hawke deeply, running her fingers through her long hair. Her hands moved slowly, gently caressing the tender skin, paying special attention to the parts that she knew Hawke was the most sensitive. She broke away and kissed Hawke's neck and nibbled her earlobe, watching as the mage's bosoms started heaving enticingly in her low cut robes. This is when Isabela would normally take a shortcut, pulling the dress undone impatiently or skipping the formalities altogether and lifting the skirt. But she was determined to take her time, if, for no other reason, than to avoid the inevitable.

Hawke was shifting beneath her, staring at her in a mixture of eagerness and uncertainty. She propped herself up and started undoing her own robes, before Isabela's hand stopped her.

"What's wrong?" Hawke asked quietly, her blue eyes flicking between Isabela's.

"I just want to take my time, sweet thing. We have all afternoon."

Hawke hesitated, the look in her eyes saying that she didn't fully believe Isabela. _Smart girl_, Isabela thought sadly to herself, _she's got good instincts._

She returned her lips to Hawke's mouth. Hawke had eaten something delicious before coming to the tavern, and Isabela delighted in the flavour of the younger woman's lips and tongue. Her fingers nimbly worked on the buttons on the back of Hawke's robes, and she slid the fabric off Hawke's shoulders one at a time. She kissed and sucked her way along Hawke's collarbone. Hawke tried to slide a hand up Isabela's thigh, but the pirate caught it and brought it above Hawke's head, linking their fingers while she kissed her body.

Her own arousal was reaching critical levels, as was Hawke's, who was breathing heavily and quivering. Isabela pulled the rest of the dress down and dumped it in a heap on the floor, letting Hawke's full breasts spill out. She went to hook a finger in Hawke's pantyline, only to find them conspicuously missing. She looked at the mage in confusion. Hawke would never walk from Hightown to Lowtown without her undergarments on. Hawke gave her a sheepish smile, revealing the pair of undergarments that she was holding in her spare hand. "You were taking too long…" she muttered quietly as Isabela chuckled.

Isabela slid her hand between Hawke's legs and found her slippery with anticipation. She glided two fingers inside of her while her thumb worked on Hawke's sensitive spot. She brought her lips down to Hawke's left breast where she drew a hardened nipple into her mouth. She was rewarded almost instantly with loud, girlish moans and a pair of soft thighs crushing her hand.

She looked down at Hawke in amazement. "Already? I know I'm good but…"

Hawke looked at her with wide eyes. "I couldn't help it. You've just spent the last 20 minutes teasing me…"

Isabela gave her a smile. "It's okay. I'm just getting started."

She moved her mouth down and replaced her thumb with her tongue. Hawke's back arched dramatically at the new sensation. Isabela sucked and licked slowly, increasing the pace as Hawke's legs started to tremble. Hawke clamped her thighs down again, and Isabela laughed softly, watching as the mage's second orgasm rolled on top of the first.

Hawke reached desperately for Isabela, trying to grab a hold of some flesh or pull off an item of clothing, but Isabela grabbed her by the wrist and pinned her down again. Hawke exhaled in frustration, and shot another confused glance Isabela's. "What's going on? You haven't even taken your clothes off…"

Isabela slid her fingers out of Hawke's wetness and stood, slowly unlacing her tunic while the mage watched. They were 2-0, and Isabela was throbbing down below. She couldn't wait much longer. She crawled back on top of Hawke, who took both of Isabela's hips in her hands. Isabela was a lot stronger than Hawke, and when it came to a wrestling match, she always came out on top, but Hawke took her by surprise and managed to flip her onto her back. Hawke started to trail downwards with her mouth, but Isabela caught her. Hawke gave her a questioning look.

Isabela shrugged. "I want you to stay up here with me…"

"Okay then" Hawke said slowly. She knew that something was wrong, but she gave into her lover's request.

Hawke kissed her deeply and positioned their bodies against each other in the perfect way. She rocked her hips back and forth, and quickly found the rhythm that had them both moaning softly into each other's mouths. Their hands explored and touched each other, as the friction began to drive them to ecstasy. For the third time that day, Hawke called out to the Maker, as her and Isabela peaked in unison, in the synchronicity that only long time lovers know.

Hawke flopped down breathlessly, resting her head on Isabela's chest, listening to her heartbeat drumming. Their legs were still tangled, and they were both panting. Hawke's kiss, her breasts, her hair, her smell, her taste, her sounds; Isabela loved having having sex with this woman. She loved… _her_. She'd never felt such a strong connection to anyone, and her heart sank to think of what she was about to do. As if reading her mind, Hawke lifted her head and looked into Isabela's eyes.

"Is there something wrong? You seemed… different…" she whispered, looking into Isabela's face intently.

"I… suppose we should talk…" Isabela said, lightly sliding Hawke off of her so that they lay side by side.

Hawke turned to her side and propped her head up on her elbow, lightly drawing her fingernails across Isabela's chest. "You know that you can tell me anything."

Isabela looked at Hawke. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was messy, her breasts were exposed. This was the way she wanted to remember her. She took a deep breath, and spoke before the courage left her. "Hawke... I think you're trying to complicate things. You and I… this was just rutting, it was just for fun. But, you're trying to bring feelings into it, aren't you?"

Hawke's eyes widened, sensing the trap that she'd just stepped into. "I'm… not going to answer this."

Isabela lifted the sheet over her chest, and focused on the ceiling. "Hawke, it's important. I need to know. Do you have feelings for me?"

Hawke sighed and rolled onto her back. "Why are you asking me this? You already know the answer. You've known it for a long time. Yes, I have feelings for you. Of course I do, look at you. But it doesn't need to change anything between us. I know you don't feel the same way about me, and I've accepted it."

_I do feel the same way, that's the problem_, Isabela thought angrily.

"No Hawke, it changes everything. It's not fair to you. I can never be what you want me to be. When my husband died, I swore I would never be tied down to anyone again. Not even you. I have had a lot of fun with you, sweet thing, but I can never be yours."

"I am 24 years old, Isabela. I am more than capable of making these decisions for myself. I've put up with this… _arrangement_, for years now. I've never once asked you to tie yourself to me. I would rather have this with you, than nothing at all."

"I get a say in this too, Hawke. It's not just your decision."

Hawke's jaw clenched. "Well it should be! I'm the one that's compromising here, that's missing out on getting what I really want from you, while you treat me like a fucking concubine!"

Isabela felt the tears well at Hawke's words, and quickly blinked them away. "You've just proved my point, Hawke. I won't let you waste the best years of your life on a compromise. I like you too much to do that."

Hawke covered her face with her hands. "Don't do this, Bela. Please. I swear, I won't ask for anything more from you. I don't care if you never hold my hand in public, or kiss me when I'm sick, or let me sleep beside you. This is enough. I promise, this is enough for me."

Isabela shook her head. "No, sweet thing, it's not. You're not like me. You shouldn't settle. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you need. Love is great, but it's not for me. It never will be."

Hawke let out a small sob. "I can't win this, can I? There's nothing I can say to change your mind?"

Isabela swallowed the lump in her throat, and willed her voice to remain steady. "No. There's nothing you can say. I think this has already gone on for too long."

Hawke sat up, and, for the first time in years, she dressed with her back to Isabela, deliberately trying to cover her nakedness. For some reason, that simple act made Isabela the saddest of all, that within the space of a two minute conversation, the bond they'd fostered over two years was gone. She pulled on her boots without bothering to lace them up, and didn't take the time to strap her staff into its holder, opting instead, to carry it loosely.

She paused at the door, with her hand on the knob. "I had thought… if I was patient…" she cleared her throat, "Never mind. I was obviously wrong. Goodbye, Bela."

Hawke's voice broke with emotion on the last word, and she hurried out of the room, never once looking at Isabela, who lay on the bed and let the hot tears sting her eyes.


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

Hawke never came back to the tavern. Not seeing the mage for a month had been like a trip to the Void for Isabela. She had wanted to go after her. To take it all back, and say everything that she'd been holding back for so long. But she didn't. She stayed at the tavern, and went back to her life.

Hawke didn't seem to need Isabela's set of skills anymore, preferring, instead, to travel with Aveline and Fenris. Varric accompanied them sometimes too, when there were locks that needed to be picked, or traps that needed to be disarmed. He always came back looking guilty.

"Rivaini, what happened? You seemed so… happy…" he ventured after their sixth pint of the night.

"I am happy, Varric. I have booze, a bed, and a different man every night. This is the way life should be."

In reality, Isabela had never felt more lonely. The lovers she brought back to her bed often stank of gin and sweat. She refused to kiss them, not that they were interested in romance anyway. Most of them rolled over and fell asleep after a few minutes of riding her, before she woke them up and threw them out. She couldn't even bring herself to look at another woman, not yet.

Varric looked at her doubtfully. "I'm not going to pretend that I have a fetish for humans, but even I can see that Hawke is a very special girl. You must be hurting right now, I can certainly see that she is."

"Don't look at me like that, Varric. I am _fine_. Hawke… will be _fine_. It was past time. She was too young, too idealistic, too emotional. She doesn't belong with somebody like me, and I don't belong with somebody like her. We were kidding ourselves."

"Don't lie to a liar, Rivaini. You and I both know that you loved that girl."

Isabela considered the truth for a moment. Maybe it would feel good to say it out loud. But she resisted. "No. I don't fall in love, Varric. Hawke and I had our fun, but now it's done, and I don't miss her at all."

Varric pursed his lips. "I am so not convinced, Rivaini, but if this is the way you want it, then I'll leave it at that."

"Good. Now go and get us another pint. It's your turn to buy."

* * *

It was an unremarkable afternoon, Isabela had lost track of the days. She had woken up at midday, and started drinking soon after. The bartender often leered at her, after all the times he'd seen her with Hawke, but he gave her half priced drinks, so she put up with it. She was swaying, and considering the possibility that she may need to eat something, when a familiar voice rang out.

"Isabela! Isabela! Don't you dare ignore me!" Aveline bustled through the tavern, the crowd parting in her wake.

This was all Isabela needed. She rolled her eyes, "What is it, big girl? What have you come to lecture me on now?"

"Shut up Isabela, you stupid, loud mouthed, whore. I need to talk to you."

Isabela was stunned into silence. The captain of the guard had little patience for Isabela, but outright aggression was not Aveline's style. There had to be something wrong.

Aveline leaned on the bar. She was pale, and covered in a fine layer of sweat. She snatched Isabela's glass of whiskey, and downed it in one swig. "Maker's breath, how do you drink this shit?!"

Isabela looked at her empty glass with annoyance. "With great ease. Now, why are you here?"

"I… I'm trying to figure out what to say. I can barely believe what I've just seen. I've just been with Hawke. Leandra… Her mother… She's dead. She was murdered."

Isabela let the information sink in. Hawke's mother had been a total bitch, and Isabela could care less that she was dead. But she knew Hawke would be in a world of hurt. "I… what happened?"

"Hawke worked on a missing person's case a few years ago. She met a Templar, called Emmeric, who was convinced there was a serial killer abducting women."

Isabela nodded. "We found the bag of bones, yes, I remember."

"There was no evidence linking the women. I mean, these disappearances were spread out over five years, there was nothing I could do!"

Isabela shifted impatiently. "Yes, yes, Guard-Captain, save your posturing for someone who cares. Can you please just get to the part where Hawke's mother is dead?!"

"Yes, sorry. She went missing this morning. Hawke felt that something was off, so she came to me. We asked around Lowtown, and a street urchin told us that he'd seen Leandra with a gentleman who was bleeding heavily. We followed his blood, and we found them…"

"And?!" Isabela grew increasingly annoyed.

Aveline swallowed deeply, and wiped some of the sweat from her brow. "He was a necromancer. He'd been collecting the… parts… of those women, so that he could rebuild his dead wife. He used blood magic to bind them all together, and, he brought her back to life. Leandra was… the face. She died in Hawke's arms."

Isabela opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Hawke loved her mother, and they were the only family each other had. Isabela hadn't liked what Leandra had said to her, but she had respected that it had come from maternal love.

Aveline's voice cut through Isabela's thoughts. "I don't wish to partake in whatever foul games you've been playing with that child, but, she loves you. She'll listen to you. If you could just forget for one moment that you're a shallow, self-serving, slattern, I know that you could help her. She needs you right now…"

"How could I help? I've caused her more pain than the rest of you combined. You go, if you're such an expert on what she needs."

Aveline sighed, and looked Isabela in the eyes. "Don't play dumb with me. We both know that you were together with her for years. I saw you when you were around her. You were happy. You both were. I don't know why you insist on pretending it was for naught, but please, for one night, just drop the act."

"What would I even say? I'm not good with words."

"You don't need to say anything, Isabela. You know how to comfort her better than anybody."

Isabela inhaled, and closed her eyes. She did want to see Hawke. She didn't know if Hawke would even let her in, but she had to try. She opened her eyes and exhaled, looking at Aveline. She nodded. "I'll do it."


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

Isabela was let in by the elven serving girl, Orana. She didn't need to ask where Hawke was, she walked straight up the staircase to her bedroom. She found Hawke on the bed, head in hands, weeping. Isabela had never seen anyone look so broken. "I… uh… I feel I should say... _something_…"

Hawke startled, and looked up. They made eye contact, and Hawke responded. "It's okay, Isabela, you don't need to be here. I know you're not good with... emotional stuff."

Isabela took a few tentative steps towards the bed. "I'd like to be here for you, if you'll let me."

Hawke nodded stiffly, and her face crumpled.

Isabela took a seat beside her on the bed, and struggled to find the words. She didn't have much expertise when it came to mothers. "At least you know that your mother loved you, not everybody can say that."

Hawke nodded. "Yes, she did love me. She was the only person left in the world that did."

Isabela felt the forbidden three-word phrase tingling the tip of her tongue, but she refused to say it. _That_ would complicate things inextricably. She compromised. "You can't believe that, Hawke. There are still people that love you… like… Aveline."

Hawke looked over with red rimmed, puffy eyes. "Was it my fault?"

Isabela sighed and snaked her arm around Hawke's waist, and Hawke leaned her head on Isabela's shoulder. Isabela took Hawke's hand in her own, and interlocked their fingers. The smell of Hawke's hair entered Isabela's nostrils, and she found herself overcome by emotion. "No, it wasn't your fault, sweet thing. You couldn't have known."

"My mother, she should have grown up here. She should have been rich, and married a lord. Instead, she gave it all up to spend her life on the run, living in poverty, protecting me and my sister. Magic was a curse for her, and now, it's the reason that she's dead. And I have to live with it coursing through my veins like poison, for the rest of my life."

Isabela gently kissed Hawke's forehead. "Don't think like that. Your mother made choices. This murderer made choices. None of them are your fault. Your power is a gift. You are a great mage, Hawke."

Hawke sniffled. "You wouldn't say that if you saw what I did to him. I tore him into pieces with my magic. I never even knew I could do that. And… I enjoyed it."

Isabela stroked Hawke's hand with her thumb. "I'm sure you did. You're only human. He killed your mother, and countless others. Some people don't deserve a quick death, Hawke."

Isabela was confused by the close proximity, the physical intimacy, the affection. She wanted to take back every word she'd said at The Hanged Man. She wanted to lie down and go to sleep with Hawke in her arms. But she couldn't. _Wouldn't_. So she stayed still, and let Hawke's tears soak her shoulder.

After they sat there for a long time, Hawke lifted her head. She turned towards Isabela, and tentatively kissed her. Isabela let her. She could taste the salty tears on Hawke's lips as she gently kissed her back. Hawke's kiss intensified, and she moved her hand to the lacing on Isabela's tunic.

Isabela broke away. "Hawke… I… This doesn't change anything."

Hawke nodded, her words so filled with tears that they were hard to decipher. "I know, I just… don't want to be lonely tonight."

Isabela brushed a piece of hair away from Hawke's downcast face. "You're not alone, sweet thing. Lie back and relax…" she said, peeling off Hawke's blood stained robes.

She kissed her way down Hawke's body, stopping briefly every few moments to wipe away a fresh tear. As she got between Hawke's legs and tasted her sweet, soapy flesh, she realised how much she missed being with the mage. More than she'd ever missed anything in her life. Hawke was incredibly quiet while Isabela went about pleasing her, and just as the pirate was wondering if she still had what it takes, Hawke's thighs gave their tell-tale clench. Instead of a moan, Hawke let out a sob, and Isabela knew that the distraction had only been brief.

Sex would not cut it tonight, and Isabela would have to offer Hawke the comfort that she'd been avoiding. Love. Isabela lay down beside her, as Hawke whimpered softly "I'm sorry."

Hawke put a hand into Isabela's top, clumsily cupping her breast, but Isabela took her hand and removed it. "Don't. This isn't about me, Hawke."

Hawke rolled over and scrunched into the fetal position, while Isabela snuggled into her back, wrapping an arm around her waist, and stroking her sweet smelling hair. Isabela stayed until Hawke finally closed her eyes. She had never seen another person cry themselves to sleep, and it was probably the most intimate thing she'd ever done with anyone. She covered Hawke's naked body up with a blanket, and slowly moved off the bed.

Her chest ached with longing, and regret.

She had already restarted her search, but now, she would have to have to double her efforts. She needed to find the lost relic and get out of Kirkwall. Immediately. She needed to get away from this girl.


	25. Chapter 25

**25**

Isabela didn't see Hawke for a fortnight after Leandra's death. She had wanted to go to her, but she knew where it would lead, and she couldn't let that happen again. It had been hard enough to leave Hawke that night, and Isabela doubted that she was strong enough to do it again. Aveline and Varric checked on Hawke daily, so that was a small comfort.

"I'm starting to get worried, Rivaini, she's not doing well" Varric said, staring down at his mead, and sucking his teeth.

"What does that mean though? What is she doing?" Isabela asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"Well, I haven't seen her leave her bed yet. Neither has Aveline. And Bodahn said that he brings her meals up to her, and they come back down untouched. But then, he said she's been doing that for a while now…" His eyes flashed guiltily to Isabela, realising that he'd given away too much information.

She hung her head. She had noticed that Hawke's hip bones had stuck out sharply, her cheekbones had been more pronounced and Isabela could feel every rib when she ran her hands over Hawke's body. But it had been dark, and Isabela hadn't seen the woman in a month, so she'd told herself she was imagining it.

Varric continued. "I don't know, she just seems kind of, consumed. She's all alone, in that big house. Her Uncle and brother are both blaming her for the murder. She's in a really bad place. I don't know what to do for her."

"If I knew how to help her, trust me, I would help. I'm not completely heartless. Hawke has been… good to me."

Varric nodded. "I know, I know. I'm not blaming you. I just wish there was something we could do." He shrugged. "I guess she's just got to get through it on her own."

Isabela felt sick for what she was about to ask Hawke to do.

Her contact, a filthy rat by the name of Martin, had finally come through. Isabela had no patience for the man and his greedy eyes, but his information was usually good. After all this time, the relic had shown up, being pedaled by a crooked merchant named Wall Eyed Sam.

The deal had been brokered, and the relic would be passed into Tevinter hands before the night was over. The exchange was happening in the Foundry district of Lowtown. Just to add salt to the wound, not only would she be dragging Hawke away from her grief, but she would be taking her within a few buildings of where her mother had met her grisly end.

But Isabela needed this. Castillion would cancel the contract on her head. The Qunari would be too busy warring with the Tevinters to bother pursuing her. She could leave Kirkwall with a clean slate. Castillion might even be happy enough with her to reward her with a replacement ship. And most importantly, she could escape Hawke, and her pretty lips, and her smiley eyes, and her hair that always smelled like flowers.

She would need Hawke's help for the pickup though. Tevinter magisters were no easy mark, and they would come with backup. They would not simply hand the relic over. But Hawke had already proven that she was more than a match for them. And so Isabela swallowed the last of her mead, and steeled herself to go and ask Hawke one last huge favour.

* * *

"Isabela, it's nice to see you." It was unusual for Hawke to answer her own front door.

Isabela was taken aback by the mage's appearance. She wore no makeup, her eyes were puffy and her hair looked unusually greasy. Her cheekbones had a gauntness to them, and the tendons in her thin neck stood out.

"Where are your servants?" Isabela asked, stepping through the opened door.

"I've dismissed them for a few days. All that fussing about, wanting to talk and force-feed me. I just need to be alone."

"I see…" Isabela said, looking her former-lover up and down. Isabela had known Hawke's body very well, and she could see, even through clothes, that Hawke was skin and bones. "Maybe the force-feeding wouldn't be such a bad thing, Hawke. You need to look after yourself," she added gently.

Hawke shrugged, and looked down at her feet. "I saw my mother's head cut off and put onto the body of another woman. I don't think I'll ever be hungry again."

Isabela gulped and took a few deep breaths. _I can't believe I'm going to ask this of her._

She opened her mouth to speak, but Hawke interrupted before she could begin. "I meant to thank you, by the way. For the other night. I'm nothing to you, and you don't owe me anything. You didn't have to come over, but you did. It was… very kind. I really appreciated it."

Isabela touched Hawke's arm. "You're not nothing to me, Hawke" she said softly.

Hawke's eyes frosted over with tears, and she turned away. "I'm sorry, I'm not being much of a hostess. Can I get you a drink?"

"I… uh… I actually came here to ask you something. A favour. A big one."

Hawke wiped her eyes, and turned back to face Isabela. "What is it?"

"Do you remember that relic I was after? The one that Castillion wants to kill me over?"

Hawke nodded.

"Well, it's finally turned up in Kirkwall. But it will be leaving to go to the Tevinter Imperium tonight. I have one chance to get it back, Hawke. Castillion will call off the hit, and I'll finally be free of him."

Hawke ran a hand through her hair. "And so you need me? Because…? Ah… I see. Because you don't know anybody else who can take on a magister."

"I'm so sorry, Hawke, I know the timing is terrible."

Hawke stood up straighter, and her jaw set. "No, the timing is perfect. Tevinter magisters are known for their liberal use of blood magic. They will all die screaming, I swear it. Get Fenris too, he'll want to be a part of this. Meet me out the front of my house in an hour. Where is the deal happening?"

Isabela swallowed hard. "In a foundry… in Lowtown."

Hawke's eyes flashed with anger. "Very well. I'll see you soon."

* * *

"I'll tell you this much, Isabela, timing is certainly not your strong suit" Fenris mused in his usual monotone.

They were on their way to Hawke's house, as they'd been instructed. "I know, I know, but it couldn't be helped. You should be happy. I'm lining up mages for you to slay. You're still into that, aren't you?"

Fenris frowned deeply. "You play upon your… connection… with Hawke, far too readily. I hope that one day, she sees you for what you are."

Isabela looked at the tall, lanky elf. "That's a total load of bollocks, coming from you. You didn't hesitate to bring Hawke into a battle with a powerful magister when it suited your needs."

He looked down at her. "Yes. A magister that she beat in a stunning victory. It's not the same."

"It's exactly the same. You didn't know that was going to happen. She could be a blood splatter on the floor of The Hanged Man right now, all because of you. Don't  
accuse me of abusing connections, we've all used her at one point or another. At least I had the decency to throw a few orgasms her way."

Fenris scoffed. "Hawke and I fight for each other because we have the mutual respect of warriors. Not because I tempt and control her with what's between my legs."

Isabela fumed silently beside him. She had a dozen replies at the ready, but she needed Fenris to have her back tonight.

Hawke was waiting for them at her front door. Her robes, which had always fitted her so deliciously, were hanging off her now. She looked terrible, with big, black circles under her eyes and her stringy black hair pulled back into a messy bun. She attempted a smile at her two companions, but it more closely resembled a grimace.

Fenris inhaled sharply at the jarring sight of the mage. "Hawke, it is good to see you. I doubt anything I could say would be sufficient, but, for what it's worth, I am sorry for the loss of your lady Mother."

Hawke bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Fenris. That is most kind of you." She turned her attention towards Isabela, "Has Fenris been briefed?"

Isabela crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, the small amount that he would listen to."

Fenris ignored the jab. "Just tell me where to aim my sword, Hawke. It is yours, as always."

"Okay, then let us be off" Hawke announced crisply, as she turned in the direction of Lowtown.


	26. Chapter 26

**26**

As the last Qunari's frozen body shattered, Hawke stepped over the shards of bone and ice, and got within an inch of Isabela's face.

"Okay Isabela, I need answers, right now" Hawke said, boiling anger brimming just beneath the surface.

"Hawke… the relic belongs to the Qunari, and there's a small chance they want it back..."

Hawke's eyes narrowed. "How long have you known what the relic was?"

"Does it matter?" Isabela scrambled.

Hawke crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "Yes."

Isabela sighed and hung her head. "I've… I've always known. I stole it from them. The reason that I'm here, the reason that the Qunari are here… We all got shipwrecked when they were chasing me down."

Hawke could barely contain her rage. "You knew all along?! They've been stuck here for four years, because of you! How could you?! How could you not trust me with this?!"

"I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. I just… I didn't know you, at first. And then, I had waited too long, and, had gotten in too deep. It was just too awkward to bring up."

"_Awkward_?! Oh, Maker forbid you feel awkward!" Hawke put her hands on top of her head and took a few deep, steadying breaths. "Okay. It's okay. We go in there, we kill every magister in the building. We get the tome, return it the Qunari, they leave Kirkwall, we avoid a war. Everybody wins."

Isabela's eyes widened. "What? Everybody wins except for me you mean! I need that tome, Hawke. It's the only thing that's going to stop Castillion from feeding me to the sharks!"

Hawke's momentary calm faded. "FUCK CASTILLION! And fuck you! You're a selfish child, Isabela! After everything I've done, everything we shared…" she stopped, and Isabela flinched as Hawke threw her fist into the wall behind her. Hawke winced with pain and regret as she cradled her newly broken knuckles. Through gritted teeth, she said "Isabela, Castillion will not have you. Point me at him, and he will die. But _this_, getting the Qunari out of Kirkwall, this is more important right now. You made the mistake of not trusting me before, so trust me now. Nobody will hurt you."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "I should've known you would side with them. Nobody is ever on my side. I can't believe you're... Ugh! Fine, I'll return it straight to the Qunari once we get it."

She trudged inside the building behind Hawke and Fenris, fuming silently. They ducked behind some crates, and heard the start of a confrontation begin.

"The Tome of Koslun will not fall into Tevinter hands!" boomed a Qunari's voice, from the upper level.

The sounds of blades clashing and spells being cast took over the warehouse. Fenris went to stand up, and Hawke dragged him back down under cover.

"Stay here. Let them take each other out. When the fighting's done, we'll mop up the survivors and take the tome" Hawke whispered.

Isabela and Fenris both nodded in agreement.

Another deep Qunari voice boomed. "You! Merchant! Hand over the tome now, and your life will be spared!"

Isabela hazarded a peek over the crate, and saw Wall Eyed Sam being confronted by two hulking Qunaris. He froze in position for a moment, before turning on his heel and running for the door behind them.

"Shit…" Hawke hissed as she got ready to fight.

Fenris and Hawke set upon the two chasing Qunaris. How the fight went, Isabela would never know. Her eyes locked on Wall Eyed Sam and she chased him out the door.

"ISABELA!" Hawke's voice rang out after her, but she kept going.

Sam wasn't particularly quick, and he was weighed down by the tome, so she caught him almost the second they entered the alley. She drew a blade and cut his throat in a quick motion, and he dropped to the ground. "Sorry Sam…" she said quietly, rifling through his pockets and retrieving a pouch of coins and a small quill. She opened the tome and ripped a square of paper off the first page, which was blank. Knowing that she didn't have much time, she quickly scribbled the final words she would ever get to say to Hawke.

_Dear Hawke,_

_I have the relic, and I am gone. I've lost too much over this blighted thing to let it go again. I know it would be noble to return the relic to the Qunari, but that would require a better soul than I possess._

_For what it's worth, I'm sorry I lied to you again._

_Isabela_

She left the note on Wall Eyed Sam's chest. Hopefully Hawke would see it on her way out. _If she gets out_. Isabela hesitated in the street, paralysed by indecision. She could hear the fighting inside the building. Hawke was in there. She could be getting hurt. She could be getting killed. _She could be dead already, no use throwing my life away_, Isabela reasoned.

And so she fled.

She made it to the Docks quickly, keeping to the shadows, especially around the Qunari compound. If she'd had a shred of honour, she would have marched in there and given them their book back, but that was not Isabela. This was who she really was. A survivalist. Self-serving. Free. There was nobody to hold her back now.

There was a nearby ship that looked like it was loading up. She could attempt to sneak aboard and stowaway until she was safely away from Kirkwall, but the enormous book she carried severely limited her abilities of stealth, so she went for the direct approach.

She walked up to the most senior looking sailor. "I'd like a word with your captain, please" she said, ignoring the up and down stairs she was getting from the crew.

"Aye, right away, Miss" the sailor replied in the Fereldan accent that Isabela was now so familiar with. He headed up the gangplank and onto the ship.

_Ferelden. That will do. I can stay at my old room in the Pearl, and have word sent to Castillion within the fortnight. Clean air, friendly people, pretty scenery. And the Qunari influence is minimal.  
_  
A few minutes later, a middle aged man made his way down onto the docks to meet Isabela. He had greying, brown hair and a matching beard. His face was deeply lined from years of sunburn. He was missing his two front teeth, and his nose was off-centre from an old break.

His eyes devoured Isabela hungrily, and for the first time, maybe ever, she felt uncomfortable under the gaze of a man. "So… you're looking for passage from Kirkwall? We could manage that, aye, for the right price."

Isabela threw him the coin purse that she'd retrieved from Wall Eyed Sam, keeping her own personal purse stored safely inside her boot. "This is all I have. But, I'm familiar with boats, and I can be as much help as any crewman on this ship. I'll earn my way."

He counted up the coins, and paused, pretending to think. "I just don't think this will be enough, lass. Ferelden is a fortnight's sail away, and it's going to cost me a fortune to feed an extra person. I think you'll have to sweeten the deal…"

Isabela rolled her eyes. She'd seen this coming. "What do you want?!" she demanded impatiently. Every moment she spent out here, exposed, bartering with this fool, was another moment that the Qunari could find her.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I _could_ offset the cost, if you joined me in my cabin every night…"

Isabela felt a wave of revulsion sweep over her. "And I suppose you would demand the same service from me if I was a man looking for passage?!"

He broke into a big, toothless grin. "No, I'd leave you here at the mercy of whoever it is you're running from. So, do we have a deal?"

"Ugh, here" she said, reaching into her boot and throwing him her personal coin purse. She'd made some questionable bedroom decisions when she'd had mead-goggles on, but sharing a bed with this man for half a month was too much to ask.

The captain counted the second coin purse and nodded his head. He stepped aside and let Isabela board.

She found a quiet spot at the bow of the ship, and sat down. She let the cool night air fill her lungs, and she smiled at the smell of the sea. This is where she belonged. Not by the side of some kindly, young, mage, with her soft hands and tender kisses. Isabela scolded herself. How easily she had let herself fall into complacency, in the arms of a pretty girl.

_Never again_, Isabela vowed to herself, _love is NOT for me_.


	27. Chapter 27

**27**

Isabela's exhausted body collapsed on the sand. It had taken her hours to row her stolen lifeboat back to the shore. Dawn had broken and the sun was moving higher in the sky as she took in her surroundings. She was somewhere on the Wounded Coast, she remembered it well from all her moonlit strolls with Hawke.

The movement of a ship had always had a relaxing effect on her, and she'd been so busy dozing on and off that she'd almost missed the vision of Kirkwall ablaze against the horizon. But the second she'd seen it, her heart had stopped beating in her chest, and she'd known that she needed to come back.

She stood up in the wet sand, picking up the enormous tome. If she left immediately, she could make it to the city within half an hour. She started her journey on foot.

By the time she made it within the city walls, there were bodies strewn everywhere, both human and Qunari. She saw nothing alive as she made her way through the Docks, and on to Hightown.

As she made her way through the silent market, a panicked City Guard ran up and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Run the other way, serah! The Qunari are taking everyone to the Keep. Get out of here!"

"Is the Arishok there?" Isabela demanded.

"I don't know, I think so. I've seen them dragging people, screaming. You need to leave the city, now!"

Isabela swiped his hands off her. "No. I'm not running away this time." She turned her back on the guard, and headed for the Viscount's Keep.

There were Qunari bodies splayed all over the steps, all fresh kills. Some of the corpses were charred to the bone - a mage had killed them with fire. _Hawke_, Isabela thought hopefully.

At the top of the stairs, she was confronted by a group of templars, led by a formidable looking older woman. She was wiping the blood off her greatsword as Isabela approached. "I am Knight-Commander Meredith, of the Templar Order," she announced in a stern, crisp voice, "State your business, messere."

Isabela locked eyes with the woman. She had greying blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. She was adorned in the shiny, silver armour of a templar, with a head piece that set her apart as their leader. Before Isabela could speak, Carver Hawke stepped forward.

"Isabela?" he asked, his tone surprised.

"Carver? Is Hawke alive?" Isabela asked, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.

He frowned deeply. "Yes. My fool of a sister has just gone into the Keep. She believes that she alone can talk the Qunari down. Typical."

Isabela gestured with the tome. "I might be able to help her with that. I think this is what they're after…"

Carver's scowl deepened. "I knew there was more to your story. You may have tricked my sister, but not me."

"Enough talking! Ser Carver, we'll discuss your _colourful_ associates at a later time. For now, it's gone past the point of negotiation. These creatures will pay for this outrage. If that apostate wishes to throw her life away, so be it. It will save me having to decide her fate later." Meredith's voice was a knife slicing through the air.

Carver grimaced at the statement. The relationship between the Hawke siblings had never been good, but if Hawke was forced to submit to the Circle, or worse, then everything the family had sacrificed was for nothing.

"Come with me, serah. We will present your book to the Arishok, and put an end to this" Meredith said, opening the door and motioning for Isabela to step through.

The stairway to the throne room was littered with dead Qunari, their corpses still smoking from the flames that had taken their lives.

Meredith eyed off the destruction. "The apostate saved my life out there. I was cornered, and with the flick of her hands, she set an entire squad of Qunari ablaze. I've never seen anything like it. She is powerful, I will say that much"

"Yes, she is" Isabela said, a note of pride ringing in the words.

Meredith did not strike Isabela as a woman that missed much, and she did not miss that. "Having power is like flipping a coin. It can be a blessing, or a curse. We will see which side your mage lands on, and, saviour or no, I will act accordingly."

There was a guard standing at the door. His huge grey biceps bulged as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had a spear strapped to his back, and an axe on his hip. "Are you here to submit to Qun?" he asked.

"Certainly not! We are here to parlay with the Arishok. Let us pass, beast" Meredith commanded, the contempt dripping from her lips.

The Qunari shook his head. "The one that goes by the name of 'Hawke', already speaks for your people. All others must stay outside to await execution, unless they are willing to submit."

They didn't have time for this, and Isabela knew it. In a flash, she unsheathed one of her knives, and slid in into the soldier's belly. She moved it up quickly, slicing through his flesh and organs, until she stopped at his ribcage. He grunted in pain, and sank to the floor as she withdrew her blade. Meredith gave her an approving nod, and Isabela sheathed the knife. Together, they walked through the, now, unguarded door.


	28. Chapter 28

**28**

For once, timing was on Isabela's side. Hawke was still alive, and standing before the Qunari Arishok.

Isabela had never seen him in the flesh. She'd only seen his dreadnought as it tore her ship apart. He was a mountain. He towered over the crowd at 10 feet tall, and was at least triple the bulk of a human man. He had the largest horns she had ever seen, and his grey skin was painted with red war paint.

He held two enormous blades, one he rested casually on his shoulder, the other he held down loosely at his side, but the implications of them being drawn at all were clear. The disembodied head of Viscount Dumar lay at his feet. Standing in front of him, alone, Hawke looked like a small child by comparison.

Aveline, Varric, Fenris, Merrill and Anders were all lined up against the wall, with soldiers on either side of them. Hawke had been the only one permitted to approach. The humans in the room were all on their knees, some prayed, some cried, but all looked utterly hopeless.

The Arishok didn't even look in Isabela's direction as she crossed the room, his eyes focused entirely on Hawke, but every other Qunari stared at her and drew their weapons. Isabela slowly made her way towards the two figures at the head of the room.

"I believe you are after this " she announced, putting on a false air of confidence.

One of the Arishok's foot soldiers stepped forward and took the tome from her. She felt relieved to be done with its burden, both physically and otherwise.

Hawke turned towards her. "Thank you, for coming back" she said quietly. She looked thin and exhausted, with dried blood spatter covering her face. She'd been fighting all night.

"Oh, look who's here. Trying to save the world again? Don't worry, I've got it covered this time" Isabela snapped.

She wasn't angry at Hawke. Not really. She was angry at herself. She had broken every rule she'd ever had, and allowed herself to develop feelings for someone. Now, she'd committed the one selfless act of her life, and Castillion would have her head for it.

"The Tome of Koslun…" the Arishok murmured, resting one of his blades against the staircase, as he felt the weight of the book. "The relic is reclaimed. I am now free to return to Par Vollen, with the thief."

"What?" Isabela blurted out, stunned.

Hawke looked him in the eye, craning her neck to clear his height. "No. Isabela will answer according to our laws, not yours."

If this came to a fight, the Qunari had them outsized and outnumbered. The Arishok handed the book back to his soldier, and picked up his second blade. "Then you leave me no choice. I challenge you, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death, with her as the prize.

"No no no no! Nobody's fighting for me! Arishok, if you're going to duel anyone, duel me!" Isabela interjected desperately.

The Arishok curled his lip as he looked down at her. "You are not worthy, thief."

It was something Isabela had been told her whole life, but had never truly believed until that moment.

Hawke turned back to Isabela. Their eyes locked, blue on gold, and Isabela was certain that this was the moment that Hawke would finally give up on her. Instead, Hawke unsheathed her staff and stepped in front of Isabela, putting her body between the pirate and the Qunari leader.

"I accept your challenge, Arishok. As long as I still draw air, you won't put a hand upon her."

The Arishok gave Hawke an appraising nod. "A pity, Hawke. I had thought you were more prudent. You, alone, are worthy of respect. Kirkwall will be worse off for your loss."

Hawke nodded. "We will see."

The Arishok boomed commands to his soldiers in Qunlet, and they started moving the human hostages to the edges of the large, rectangle room. A Qunari appeared on either side of Isabela, grabbing her roughly by the elbows.

"Hawke, no" Isabela whispered, terrified, as she watched the giant Arishok strap on his leather armour.

Hawke turned to her. "If I lose, I just want you to know that you… meant a lot to me."

"Hawke… I…" Her words were cut off when the two Qunaris lifted her off her feet and dragged her up the stairs.

There, Isabela, the Knight-Commander, and the rest of Hawke's companions were surrounded by guards. They were the only humans in the room with weapons, and they were corralled like animals, so that they couldn't help even if they tried. The Arishok and Hawke went to opposite ends of the room, preparing themselves for battle.

"Why have they moved the hostages to the edges of the room? People will be hurt!" Aveline demanded to know.

"The Arishok knows that Hawke is a mage. By keeping civilians close, she will kill many innocents if she uses a high impact spell. He knows that she won't do that. It's a clever strategy" Fenris answered matter-of-factly.

Hawke and the Arishok bowed to each other, and with that, the battle began. The Arishok launched himself at Hawke, his massive blades being swung wildly by his enormous arms. They were still red and slick with the viscount's blood.

Hawke stayed close, dodging his attacks and continuously firing at him with perfectly aimed flourishes from her staff. Her attacks were limited by the civilians lining the walls. She couldn't unleash a powerful spell without taking out half the room, and she couldn't get much close enough to him without having her head lopped off by a blade. His strategy was working.

"If Hawke dies for you, I will kill you myself" Aveline growled through gritted teeth.

Isabela felt guilt and fear churning in her belly. "I asked her not to. I… didn't want this…"

"You knew what you were doing, thief. Hawke would never let them take you. You've used her feelings to your advantage for far too long" Fenris sneered.

Hawke was starting to tire. She was not in peak condition, and it showed. Her dodges were becoming near misses, and the Arishok's blades were coming closer and closer to her pale skin. She mistimed a twirl, and one of his blades bit into the side of her chest. The crowd gasped audibly as the mage cried out in pain. Blood quickly started to seep from the wound.

Hawke became unsteady on her feet, as the blood loss took its toll on her balance. She shot a continuous stream of fire at him, and he raised his blades to protect his unguarded face. The blades melted under the heat, and with an angry roar, he threw them at Hawke. One of them hit her leg, knocking her to the floor, and she screamed as she landed on her injured side, with the melted steel burning her shin.

The Arishok approached her and with one of his powerful arms, picked her up by the throat. He raised her above his head as her legs kicked and she struggled for breath. She tried to lift her staff, but the Arishok head butted her in the face, the hideous crack of her nose audible in the otherwise silent room. Her staff dropped to the ground.

Isabela looked away. She couldn't watch. She could hear the sounds of Merrill weeping behind her, as Aveline cursed under her breath.

"Keep your eyes up, wench. Look at what you have done. The least you can do is watch her die for you" Fenris hissed.

He was right. She owed Hawke that, and so much more. She lifted her gaze to watch her loved one's final moments. The bridge of Hawke's nose had split, and blood was pouring freely from the gash, covering her neck and the front of her robes. She clawed at his taloned hand with her nails, but the flailing of her legs had begun to slow. Her bulging eyes scanned the room, and for a moment, Isabela could swear that they locked on her.

With one last burst of energy, Hawke raised her hand and shot a fireball directly into the Arishok's face. He dropped her immediately, and she landed with a sickening snapping sound, as the Arishok bellowed in pain, bringing both hands up to his face. The flame engulfed him, and he fell to the ground.

Hawke used her arms and dragged herself along the ground to where her staff lay, crying out in pain with every movement. Her legs hung lifelessly behind her as she made her way to the Arishok, who was still batting away the fire on his face. In one swift movement, she brought the blade of her staff down onto his throat, brutally cutting it down to the bone. He stopped moving, and Hawke rolled onto her back beside him, making an unnatural whistling sound as she forced air in through her crushed throat.


	29. Chapter 29

**29**

The crowd cheered as the Qunari traded confused looks. The prospect of their Arishok falling had not been expected. They began to disperse, silently making their way out of the door of the Keep.

Anders was the first to move, running to Hawke's side to assess her injuries.

"Will she live?" Meredith asked him.

"I… I honestly can't say. Her throat is crushed and I think her back is broken. She's lost a lot of blood. This is beyond one healer's gifts. I'll need a team" he said, looking up at the Knight-Commander pleadingly.

"Very well. This mage fought heroically. She's a Champion of the people of Kirkwall. I will see that she gets the healing she needs, or a comfortable passing, at the least..." She turned her icy stare upon Aveline. "Guard Captain, make haste to the Gallows. Get Senior-Enchanter Orsino, and his most trusted healers. They have my leave to come to the Keep."

"Immediately, Knight-Commander. Thank you" Aveline said, running out of the room.

"I need some space. Fenris, help me carry her to the viscount's office" Anders instructed, and together, both the men hoisted up her limp, bloodied body, and carried her out of the room.

Isabela sat down and drew her knees up to her chest, putting her head in her hands.

"Rivaini…" Varric started.

"Don't Varric. There's nothing to say."

Merrill sat down beside her and placed a thin hand on Isabela's shoulder. "I think it was very brave of you to come back, Isabela."

"No, Kitten. I'm not brave. A brave person would never have run in the first place. Look at what that monster did to her. Because of me." Silence answered her, and Isabela knew that she had spoken the truth.

The jubilant sounds of the relieved crowd chanting "Champion" seemed so out of place, with Hawke dying in the next room.

* * *

Isabela paced the long hallway of the Viscount's Keep. The First-Enchanter and his healers had arrived hours ago, but the door had stayed closed.

Isabela already knew what she needed to do. She was leaving Kirkwall. Forever. She should have done it a long time ago. The first time she realised that Hawke was in love with her. And definitely, the first time that she realised that she loved Hawke back. But she needed to say goodbye first. Hawke had earned that much.

After what seemed like a lifetime, a middle aged elf led five mages in Circle robes out of the office, followed by Anders. The Fereldan healer approached the group. He was covered in blood, and his face was weary.

"Anders…?" Aveline almost wept the name.

His face was tired and lined with worry as he addressed them. "She's alive. We've treated the worst of it, but we're all exhausted. The Circle mages are going home to get some rest before we continue our treatment later tonight. It will take a long time to get her back into fighting shape. Her injuries are severe."

"Can we see her?" Aveline asked, marching towards the door before waiting for the answer. Merrill, Varric and Fenris waited in the hallway, while Aveline and Isabela went in.

Hawke was laid out on a makeshift bed, sleeping. Her blood-soaked robes were crumpled in a corner, and there was a sheet over her naked body. Her face was almost unrecognisable. Her nose was badly broken and split across the bridge, which had caused her eyes to swell and bruise, and her throat was an angry red and purple swirl.

"Oh Hawke…" Aveline murmured, placing a worried hand on the mage's forehead.

"What is this? Half a dozen mages spent five hours healing her, and this is what she looks like?! Did you people even _do_ anything?!" Isabela demanded.

Anders glared at Isabela. "Apart from saving her life, do you mean? We focused on the internal injuries, Isabela. The wound on her side was deep. Fatal, almost. Her throat was crushed. Her back was broken. Her leg was badly burned. And we need to safeguard against infection. Her face is the least of it. I'm sure that's hard for somebody as shallow as you to understand, but believe me, we're doing all we can."

"That's not how I meant it, Anders…" Isabela stopped mid-sentence. There was no use defending herself. They all hated her anyway.

"Has she regained consciousness?" Aveline chimed in with motherly concern.

Anders nodded slightly. "Yes. She was awake when we were healing her chest. She bit through a leather glove before falling unconscious again."

Isabela looked down at Hawke. _My sweet thing…_

"Do you think I could have a moment with her?" Isabela asked, looking tentatively to her former-friends.

Aveline stood up. "Absolutely not, Isabela, this is your fault! If you think I'm going to let you within 100 feet of Hawke ever again - "

"Aveline, don't. Hawke was asking for Isabela before she fainted again. She would want to see her" Anders intervened quietly.

Aveline scowled deeply. "Very well. You have five minutes, whore. Just try not to make things any worse!"

Aveline stormed out, but Anders held back, putting another blanket on top of Hawke. "I can't believe she fought him… Why would she do that?" he muttered to himself.

Isabela looked at the concern on the healer's face. "You realise she's not interested in you, right?"

A sad smile spread over Anders' face. "You would think that way, Isabela. The idea that a man would care about and have respect for a woman without wanting to squeeze between her thighs, is a foreign concept to you. Hawke is my friend, and that's all. Not that it would matter anyway. What man or woman could compare to her great love for you?"

Isabela shifted uncomfortably. "That's been over for a while now…" she said quietly.

"For _you_, maybe. I think Hawke just demonstrated to all of Kirkwall that it isn't over for her."

Isabela rested a tender gaze upon Hawke. "I didn't ask her to do that, Anders…"

"You didn't need to. You know her. She doesn't discard people as easily as you do" he said pointedly.

Isabela sighed. "I'm a horrible, lying, thieving, snake. Is that what you want to hear? I already know all that. You don't have to keep rubbing it in. Now, can I get a minute alone with her, or not? I swear, once I've said my piece, I'm leaving Kirkwall. She'll be back on the market for any blighter who can handle her."

Anders stood up and met Isabela's eyes. "Good. You never deserved her. You've brought her nothing but pain." With one last withering look, Anders left the room.


	30. Chapter 30

**30**

Isabela knelt by Hawke's bedside. She brushed the hair out of Hawke's face, and leaned in close to smell it. She reached under the blanket, gently probing, until she found Hawke's hand. She pulled it out and held it in her own, interlocking their fingers.

"I'm so sorry, sweet thing…" she whispered. She looked down at the wreck of a girl before her. She'd never known guilt like it. _This is what happens when you let yourself care_, she cursed herself. "Goodbye, Hawke" she said, leaning down and tenderly kissing the mage's lips.

Hawke's eyelids fluttered, and then opened. She blinked in disorientation, and then locked her eyes on Isabela. "Bela…" her voice was barely audible, as she attempted a faint smile.

"Hawke… are you okay?" Isabela asked weakly.

Hawke attempted a laugh, that came out as a cough. "You don't want to know the answer to that…"

"You shouldn't have done that, Hawke. That wasn't your fight. I would've figured it out on my own, I would've gotten away from them."

Hawke shook her head. "I would never have let them take you. You know why..."

_Because you love me. Because I let it go on for too long, and I let you fall in love with me_… Isabela avoided eye contact and looked at the ground.

"I'm proud of you for coming back. That was the right thing to do. You saved a lot of lives today." Hawke's voice was straining under her damaged throat.

Isabela looked Hawke in the eyes, and before she realised it, the words were tumbling out of her mouth. "You think I came back because it was the right thing to do? So that I could save Kirkwall? I didn't do it for them. I did it for you. It was always about you."

Hawke looked stunned. They sat in silence for a moment. "Do you mean… you…"

Isabela shook her head furiously. She couldn't have this conversation. She needed to leave. Hawke would only try to talk her out of it. "No, that's not what I meant. You're reading too much into it. You've always read too much into it. How many times did I tell you it was nothing, that _we_ were nothing? You were so determined to complicate it that you saw things that weren't there."

Hawke tried to sit up and groaned mournfully as she stretched her damaged side. "I don't believe that, Bela. It wasn't nothing. Lie to yourself, if that's what you need to do, but don't lie to me."

Isabela unlocked her fingers from Hawke's grasp, realising that they were still holding hands. "I'm not lying to anybody. You are. You want to pretend that it was something sweet and meaningful, when really, you like to be diddled just as much as the next lass."

Hawke reached her hand up, and tried to touch Isabela's face. "You know that's not true. I had feelings for you. I still do. And I know you felt it too."

Isabela angrily swiped Hawke's hand away. "Don't tell me what I felt. You have no idea. I never should have come back here. I don't know what I was thinking..."

"You were thinking about me. About what would happen to me if the Qunari didn't get their book back."

Isabela forced herself to look Hawke in the eyes. "I told you once before that I don't give a shit if you get hurt, and I meant it. You mean _nothing_ to me, Hawke. You were an easy lay, and that was the extent of it. But it's not easy anymore, and I'm done with you. I'm leaving Kirkwall today. We won't see each other again

"Bela, no, don't leave. Please, stay. We can work it out. Just… stay." Tears were brimming in the corners of Hawke's blackened eyes, but the mage didn't turn away.

Isabela stood. "No. I'm not staying here. I'm not who you want me to be, Hawke, I never was."

Hawke looked up at her, unyielding. "I know who you are, Bela, you're the one that's confused."

"Why won't you listen to me? Did the Arishok cut off your ears while he was busy making a mess of your face? Hawke, leave me alone! Just… fuck off! This isn't going to happen. Not now, not ever! You were an idiot to ever think otherwise."

She hazarded a glance at Hawke's face. The mage looked suitably stricken, and Isabela knew that her words had had their intended effect.

Aveline came bursting through the office door. "What in the Maker's name is going on here? I heard yelling."

"Get her out of here" Hawke whispered to Aveline.

Hawke turned away and looked out the window as the Captain of the Guard grabbed Isabela's elbow and marched her out of the door.


	31. Chapter 31

**31**

**HAWKE**

**1 year later**

She brought the brush through her thick, black hair once more. She still wasn't used to the length, and she felt like a stranger as she stared back at herself into the mirror. Orana had begged her to grow it, relishing the chance to style it, and Hawke had obliged her. In truth, Hawke liked it. It reminded her of being a girl in Lothering, when her mother would set about putting her and Bethany in matching braids. And, it did fit in better with her new Hightown _lifestyle, _anyway_._

"Orana?" she called from her bedroom. "I need you to do me up, please."

The elf came hurrying in, lifting her eyes at the last second. "Oh, mistress, you look lovely tonight. Your mama would be so proud of you."

Hawke stared back at herself. _Proud._ She doubted very much that Leandra Hawke would be proud of what her daughter had become. Hawke felt one of her black moods start to descend on her, and tried to shrug it off.

"Thank you, Orana" she said politely, as the elf started lacing the back of her gown up.

Another banquet. This was the third one this month. She didn't enjoy the things, but she owed these people. The nobles of Kirkwall had been the only thing standing between her and the Knight-Commander after Hawke had exposed herself as an apostate. The friendships that Leandra Amell had fostered during her time in Hightown had proved worthwhile, as the people had rallied around her only living daughter.

"It's good to see you've been eating, mistress" Orana murmured as she struggled to get Hawke's breasts into the gown.

Hawke smiled grimly at the elf in the mirror, before focusing her eyes back on her own reflection. The scar across her nose jumped out angrily at her, still blood red. She felt her veins turn to ice every time she saw it, as the anger ebbed away at her stomach. It really was a wonder that the marriage proposals were still coming in. There had actually been an influx, of all things, after her battle with the Arishok. Hawke had surmised that most of the attraction stemmed from her obvious interest in women, and many young bachelors had jumped at the chance to get a wife that was happy with a three-to-the-bed scenario. Hawke had found the whole thing stomach churning.

Orana finished with her dress, patting Hawke affectionately on the back. "You'll be sure to find a husband tonight, mistress, you look beautiful."

Hawke bit back her reply, giving the elf only the smallest of smiles. She felt sorry for her maid. When Leandra had been alive, Orana had felt a sense of belonging, of family. But being alone with the younger Hawke, who had become nothing but brooding stares and icy responses, couldn't have been much fun for her. _At least she gets paid, _Hawke told herself, _and I don't use her for blood sacrifices. _Still, she would have liked to have been that person for Orana, that friend that the elf so desperately needed. She would have to invite Merrill over more often, she decided on the spot.

Hawke straightened out her dress and made her way to the staircase._  
_

_He _would be there tonight, and she could feel her chest tightening at the very thought. She had no idea what he saw in her. Before the battle, yes, she had been aware that she was blessed with hereditary good looks. The only good thing that had come from her accident of birth, as the magic had proved to be nothing but a curse. But the Arishok had taken her looks away from her. _No, Isabela took that_, she corrected herself.

She rarely found a way to pull herself out of her black pit, but tonight, she was excited to see _him_. She still remembered the first time he had taken her. It had been her 18th name-day, and he had met her in the Lothering forest. He'd had a bunch of hand-picked flowers, and the full moon had lit up the clearing. He'd laid her down and been so patient, so gentle, only flinching slightly when her fingertips flared with flames as he took her maidenhood. It had been a lifetime ago. She felt blessed to have a second chance with him.

He had been her source of strength, always visiting and bringing gifts while she went through her agonisingly long recovery. He talked to her for hours, without ever trying to touch her. Hawke had thought he acted out of kindness, and was not interested in her. She had seen what had become of her face, after all, and that was bad enough, but luckily only she, Anders and a few Circle mages had seen the damage to her body.

But then out of the blue, during one of his visits, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. There was nothing behind it. No pushing her against a wall or a bed, no groping hands or insistent tongue. It was just a kiss. And she had liked it, and when he let her go and sat back, she had leaned in for more. She had wanted the light off, but he had promised she could trust him. And she did. The enormous, red scar that bit into the bottom of her right breast and travelled its way to the middle of her back, the mottled burn scar that took up most of her left calf, the skinny, withered appearance that her legs had taken on after their months of disuse, it was like he didn't see any of it. He just saw her. And she had needed that so badly.

She hobbled down the stairs, her legs still clumsy after their 6 month paralysis. She was suddenly eager to get there, to feel his gaze upon her once more.

* * *

Their eyes met across the room, which was decorated elaborately and filled to the brim with Kirkwall's finest. She felt her skin prickle under his stare, and her feet started walking in his direction. His feet did the same, two magnets drawn together. They met in the middle, and he kissed her on both cheeks.

"You look beautiful, my lady" he whispered in her ear.

She squirmed under the false compliment, but appreciated its intent. "You look good too" she breathed back, as his scent hung in the air. They both felt the stare boring into them from the woman on the other side of the room.

"I need to see you" he said quietly.

Hawke gave a small nod. "I need you too" she murmured, "meet me in the garden in ten minutes."

Their eyes met, and they broke apart, as he made his way towards the back of the manor, and Hawke circled the room, giving handshakes and air kisses to all of her mother's, and now, by association, her friends.

The cold night air hit her as she ducked out of the servant's back entrance. She had taken longer than she had expected, getting lost in conversation with Dulci De Launcet. She hoped he was still out there.

He stepped out from behind a tree. "I feared you wouldn't come" he said quietly, reaching out to hold her.

"Not here," she whispered, stepping further away from the house, "come with me."

She led him down the back of the property, and under a large, sturdy oak. She was sure there would be no prying eyes this far from the feast. It would be the death of both of them if they were caught. She guided him against the trunk, kissing his lips with hunger. He kissed her back, taking her in his strong, muscular arms. She switched their positions, pulling him against her as she pressed her back into the tree trunk.

"We need to be quick" she whispered, expertly unbuttoning his pants.

"We don't need to do this, my lady" he said quietly, moaning softly as she took his manhood in her hands.

"I haven't seen you for a whole week. I need it" she said, stepping out of her underwear and lifting her dress.

He picked her up and braced her against the tree, guiding himself inside of her while kissing her gently. It had become an addiction for her. He had come back into her life like a knight in shining armour, and filled all the gaping holes in her heart that Isabela had left there. The only time she felt anything close to happiness, was when this man was inside of her.

Feeling his pressure on her hips, his weight against her, his stubble against her neck, it was so _different_ to being with Isabela. He was everything that the pirate was not. Warm, affectionate, loving, transparent, constant. But it didn't feel the same. Hawke doubted that she would ever again let herself feel what she had felt for Isabela. Would she fight an Arishok for him? Probably not. But maybe it would be nice to have somebody who was willing to fight an Arishok for her, for once.

Hawke cursed herself. _Him. _Any other man in Kirkwall, but it had to be _him. _He could never truly be hers. He broke his vows with every moment he spent with her, and the other woman in his life would watch them both hang if she ever found out.

He knew Hawke's body, and anticipated her perfectly as she clenched her thighs down tightly on his waist. He covered her mouth as she reached her climax, and she screamed into his hand. He followed her a moment later, moaning deeply into her shoulder. They paused for a moment, breathing in synchronicity, and then he leaned in and kissed her. She touched the side of his face, feeling her hand glide along the strong jaw. He lowered her gently to the ground, and did his pants up. She retrieved her undergarments from beside her and put them back on.

"I wish I could dance with you, just once" he said sadly, as he started to walk back towards the feast.

"You say that only because you've never seen me dance. It's not pretty" she said lightly.

He sighed. "You know what I mean."

Hawke nodded. "I do. But we can't. She already suspects us. We can't do anything to confirm it for her."

"Fuck her" he grumbled.

Hawke chuckled. "Maker, I hope you're not fucking her…"

He reached out and touched Hawke's hand, their fingers tangling momentarily. "No, you're the only one for me, my lady."

Hawke smiled bitterly, cursing her horrible luck. Isabela, and now him. She had picked the two most unavailable people in Kirkwall to fall in love with. "No, I'm not. She's always going to rule your life, and I'll never be able to be a part of it. But I'll take what I can get. You are a remarkable man."

He looked at her sadly, and gently kissed her hand. "And you are a remarkable woman, Champion."

They dropped each other's hands as they went back inside, taking separate entrances. Hawke went back to mingling, and watched from across the room as _he_ went back to _her_ side.


	32. Chapter 32

**32**

**Two Years Later**

The last words she'd spoken to Hawke often rang in her ears. Especially late at night, when her lovers had left, and she was alone. Isabela feared that the look on Hawke's face would haunt her forever. Sometimes, on the worst nights, she'd rustle through her bedside drawer until she found the Rivaini talisman that Hawke had given her, and grip it tightly until she fell asleep.

She knew what she'd said, and she knew why she'd said it, but it didn't make her regret it any less. She just hoped that the words had given Hawke the freedom that she had wanted to give her, and that the mage had been able to move on.

In her three years away, she had served on half a dozen ships, working as a smuggler, an assassin, a mercenary. She had seen most of Thedas that way, plying her trades for months at a time in Ferelden, Rivain, Tevinter, Nevarra, Orlais. She found a certain satisfaction in the life. Every cache of illegal arms that she smuggled across a border, every mark whose life she successfully took, every fight that was won because her skills tipped the balance, it all brought her back to who she really was.

She spent her coin on whiskey and knives, never having anyone to remind her to be responsible and save. She brought countless men and women back to her bed, never having to worry about a bruise or a scratch being visible the next day. She picked pockets and started bar fights, never having anybody to hold her back and remind her of the innocent victims. Life was as it should be. Every day that she spent living her life as a free woman, was a day further away from the time she'd spent shackled to Hawke in Kirkwall.

* * *

Nuncio threw a parchment that was covered with a map and description onto the desk in front of her. "Isabela, I know you have your reasons for avoiding the Free Marches, and I know that I promised not to pry, but this contract is too lucrative to say no to, and I need to send my best."

Nuncio, her current boss, was a bit rough around the edges, but he was clever, and handsome enough. He'd earned his place at the head of the Orlesian arm of the Crows by being the most cunning, most successful, most vicious assassin on the west coast of Thedas. Isabela had made more coin in six months of working for him, then she'd made in the last three years combined.

She let her eyes wander up at down him before picking the parchment up. He was just her type. She would've bedded him on first sight, but she'd learned a painful lesson three years earlier, and now knew better than to mix business with pleasure.

"And what exactly has Comte Guilliaume De Launcet done to earn such ire from the Crows?" Isabela asked, briefly reading the contract.

"Isabela, you've been working for us long enough to know the most important rule. We don't ask questions. He has angered the Orlesian nobility enough that they are going to pay us 100 gold sovereigns for his head. That's all we need to know."

She scanned the document again. Mostly small print financial details, a physical description, and an address. _Hightown, Kirkwall_. She threw the parchment back.

"No. I won't do it" she said, crossing her arms and leaning back in the rich leather seat.

Nuncio scratched his head in frustration. "Isabela, you must. There is simply nobody else I trust with this hit. It must be you, and it must be soon."

"I told you the first day I met you, there is one city, in all of Thedas, that I won't go to. Get someone else to do it, do it yourself, or tell them no. I don't really care, as long as you don't bore me with it again."

Nuncio wasn't famous for his patience, and at her refusal, he slammed his fist into the wooden desk and gritted his teeth. "I don't care what Kirkwall boy broke your heart, Isabela. You will complete this hit, or you will be out of a job. And there is no such thing as retiring from the Crows, if you get my drift..."

She met his gaze, infuriated by the threat. Nuncio respected strength, and there was no way she was going to bow to him. She leaned forward. "Go on then, draw your blade and _retire_ me."

He eyed her off, before exhaling loudly. "No, Isabela. I don't like killing women, especially pretty ones. How about I sweeten the deal? 30 gold sovereigns. That's double what any Crows assassin has ever earned for a single hit."

Isabela thought for a moment. "Going back to Kirkwall? It will need to be 70 sovereigns. Up front."

The guild leader glared at her. "50. That's my final offer."

She nodded, and took the parchment back from him, rolling it up tightly and sliding it into her cleavage. He watched the movement and unconsciously licked his lower lip. It was a rare person who survived threatening her life, and an even rarer one who got to bed her afterwards. Nuncio was not that special, so she turned on her heel and left. She would book passage to Kirkwall in the morning, and if she was lucky, she could get in and out, without any of her former companions ever knowing.


	33. Chapter 33

**33**

The Hanged Man hadn't changed. Norah, the innkeeper, remembered Isabela from her years of tenancy, and put her back in her old room. It was bizarre, to sit back on her old moth eaten mattress. Being back in Kirkwall was bad enough, being back in The Hanged Man was almost torture. She needed a drink.

"Rivaini…?" She heard Varric's voice behind her as she sat at the bar for her first pint.

She hesitated for a moment. She'd not even made it an hour before being spotted by one of Hawke's friends. Kirkwall was a damn small city. She turned to him, and put on her best air of civility. "Hello Varric. It's been a while. Pull up a seat and buy me a drink." She gestured to the empty barstool beside her.

He scrambled up the seat beside her. "I thought I saw you coming in, but I almost didn't believe it. Three years Rivaini, what are you doing back in Kirkwall?"

She shrugged. "I'm not back by choice, believe me. Most of these people would want me lynched if they knew I was here. I'm in the city for business. It will be a short stay."

Varric seemed slightly taken aback by Isabela's cold demeanour. There had been a time when they had been good friends. Great friends. "I'm sorry to hear that. Would've been nice to have you around for a while. You always found a way to stir up the most interesting trouble."

Isabela smiled bitterly. "I'm sure you, and Kirkwall, have done just fine without my particular brand of trouble."

Varric chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, maybe, but it was still fun to have you around. Have you seen... uh… anybody else…?"

They both knew who he was talking about, and Isabela had learned that life was too short to play childish word games. "No, I haven't seen her. And I don't plan to. I'd actually appreciate it if she didn't know I was here. Do you understand?"

Varric nodded. "I was going to suggest the same. I think it would be better for her if she never knew. It was… difficult… when you left. Yeah, we'll just keep it between us."

Isabela didn't want to ask the question, but her lips moved of their own accord. "Is she… well?"

She didn't know why she wanted to know. Hawke had been crowned the Champion of Kirkwall the day of the Qunari attack. Rumours of her heroics swirled from Ferelden to Tevinter. The details changed but the core remained the same, Hawke had the Free Marches by the balls.

Varric inclined his head awkwardly, trying to think of the best way to answer the question. "She's okay. Now. It's been a long three years…"

Isabela rubbed her forehead with irritation, "Meaning?"

Varric sighed. "Meaning that we waded through a river of shit to come out on the other side. What did you think it would be like for her? Her mother died, she got completely banged up in a battle, exposed as an apostate, and then you left her. It was a terrible time, and she needed her friends. She needed… you."

The waves of guilt lapped at Isabela like the ocean. "She needs me like she needs a spear through the head…" she muttered sourly.

Varric shrugged. "Maybe _needed_ isn't the right word. Anyway, it was all years ago. Ever since she learned to walk again, she's been busy. She is… happy, I suppose… or as happy as Hawke gets, anyway. I don't know. She's definitely not the same girl that I met that day in Hightown, that much is for sure."

Isabela let the words settle in her mind. One phrase had disturbed her more than she thought possible. "She had to learn to walk again?"

Varric nodded, suddenly developing a keen interest in his pint of mead, conveniently avoiding eye contact. "Yeah… even with magic, broken backs don't heal quickly. Like I said… it was bad…"

A fresh wave of guilt bashed at her. She needed to be alone. "It was good to see you, Varric, but it's been a long day. I'm going to hit the hay. The next round is on me."

* * *

It was an unMakerly hour the next morning. Isabela had been unable to stay asleep for long, so she ventured down to the tavern and braved Norah's breakfast scramble and a pint of mead. She was regretting the decision greatly, when she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She turned to see the orange hair and square jawed face of Aveline.

"Oh bugger…" Isabela murmured.

"So it's true, you did come back here, you stupid tart. I should arrest you right now for your part in the Qunari attack. We're only just recovering now, do you know that?!"

"Maker's arse, Aveline, leave me alone!" Isabela said dismissively, turning back to her breakfast.

"What are you doing here, Isabela? What trouble have you come to stir up now?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "I'm here on business, carrot head. Now _please_, leave me alone"

Aveline took a seat across the table, eyeing Isabela off darkly. "So, by business, you mean something immoral, and probably illegal?" she asked, continuing her interrogation.

Isabela groaned. "Ugh. Yes. You would not approve. _Now_ will you piss off?"

Aveline looked deeply into the pirate's eyes. "Honestly, I don't care what you're here for, Isabela, just promise me you're not here to see her."

Isabela placed her right in the air, in mock oath "I, Captain Isabela, hereby promise that I will not see Hawke. Is that better, man-chin?"

Aveline visibly relaxed upon hearing that. "You know, you had friends here, Isabela. We would've helped you, if you'd asked…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Aveline. It's in the past. I've moved on."

Aveline looked around her pointedly. "Have you? Nearly seven years I've known you, and yet here you are, sitting in the same seat, drinking the same swill, pretending that you don't care about anybody."

"That's where you're wrong. There is no pretense. I really don't care."

Aveline nodded. "I believed that about you once. Until I saw you with her. You loved her, and you let her love you back. And we all watched as that selfish pirate whore started to disappear. Tell yourself whatever eases your conscience, Isabela, I don't really care. But leave her alone. You did more harm than you can imagine."

Isabela rolled her eyes again. "Yes Ser!"

Aveline stood and began to walk off, but turned back at the last moment. "It was good to see you again, Isabela. Whatever our differences, I wish you no harm, and I'm glad that you're well." And with that she disappeared through the tavern door.


	34. Chapter 34

**34**

Apparently, word still travelled fast around Kirkwall. It was early evening and Isabela leaned on the bar, talking to the bartender. She was in the middle of telling him a joke, when his eyes focused on somebody behind her, and he bowed his head respectfully. A familiar, flowery scent overcame Isabela.

"So it's true. You are back…" The unmistakable Fereldan drawl of Hawke interrupted the punch line.

Isabela froze mid-sentence, before slowly and stiffly turning around to face her former lover. She commanded her eyes to stay on course and make eye contact only, but they disobeyed and immediately scanned Hawke from head to toe. She was in tight fitting robes, as always, and she'd filled out again, her body curving in all the right places. She'd grown her hair out past the shoulder length that it used to sit at, and it now flowed dramatically, sleek and clean, halfway down her back. There was a light pink scar across the bridge of Hawke's nose, a permanent reminder of her battle with the Arishok. It suited her, adding a small point of difference in the otherwise symmetrical face.

Isabela instantly felt her pulse start to race as her heart beat relentlessly in her chest, and her stomach became a ball of nerves. She had truly not believed that Hawke could have such a physical effect on her.

She gathered herself together, put her shoulders back confidently, and said, "Don't get used to it. I'm here for business, not pleasure. I should be back on a boat to Orlais by the end of the week."

Hawke's face creased into a slight frown at the mention of Orlais, a common response from any Fereldan. "Orlais? You ran off to Orlais?"

"No. I've been many places, that's just my most recent posting."

Hawke moved closer to Isabela, and put her back to the bar. "Well, wherever you've been, it's good to see that your alcoholism has paid off. All that pickling has kept you quite well preserved, considering your age. You look well."

Isabela stiffened at the slight. "As do you. _The Champion_ _of Kirkwall_, what a fancy new title. Are you still a glorified errand girl?"

Hawke smiled bitterly. "Yes, I am. Funny story actually, I'm still cleaning up after that little Qunari incident you started. Thanks for that, by the way. I think my favourite part was when you fucking abandoned me at the Keep. That was classy."

Isabela felt the anxiety in her belly start to make way for anger. "Three years later and you're still talking about it? Glad to see I haven't missed out on much, then."

Hawke drummed her fingers on the bar. "Ah yes, running away from your problems and deferring responsibility. How _very_ like you."

Hawke was here to fight with her. Isabela remembered this dance well. "Oh my, that's a sharp tongue you've got there, Hawke. I'm glad it was a lot softer when it was getting used on me."

"Ha. Less than five minutes into a conversation and you're already being vulgar. Your time away has obviously not been full of self-reflection and personal growth, I take it?"

"What of it? Was I meant to stay here and be schooled in bitterness by you? Why are you here, Hawke, or have you seriously just come down here to fight with me?"

Hawke straightened up and wiped the smug look off her face. "No, I didn't come here with the intention to argue. I let my anger get away from me. I... apologise. I heard a rumour that you were back, and I came to see if it was true. I didn't know if you were dead or alive or - "

"Well, well, well, fancy seeing you back here. Slipping it to my niece again, I see. Should've known you just can't handle a man." The mead stenched breath wafted past Isabela's nostrils as a skinny arm slunk around her waist.

Isabela felt her skin crawl under the touch. "I've told you before Gamlen, I don't bed the elderly. Now run along and leave Hawke and I in peace."

Hawke frowned furiously at her Uncle. "_Now_? You've ignored me for three years, and you decide to speak to me now?!"

"I'm not speaking to you, kinslayer, I'm speaking to your whore. All these years she's wasted doing... whatever it is that you two do in bed together, when anybody can see that she's desperate for a stiff one."

Isabela inhaled sharply. She actually felt a moment of pity for Hawke. With the apparent exception of Bethany, Hawke had been raised amongst a pack of wolves. It was a wonder that she'd turned out to be such a nice person.

Isabela watched Hawke's face and body tense, as she leaned into Gamlen's personal space. "_Kinslayer_? I played no part in my mother's murder, you piece of shit, but if you call Isabela a whore again, I will play the leading role in yours."

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Champion_. Does the idea of me nailing your pirate slut upset you?"

Isabela let the words wash over her. Gamlen had never been successful in his repulsive attempts at seduction, and even if he had, she doubted he had the stamina to steer the ship into port. But she shifted her eyes towards Hawke, looking for a reaction. She'd always gotten so fired up at sexist remarks.

Hawke didn't waste another word, but stepped forward and swung on him, connecting loudly with his jaw. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and stayed still.

"Maker's breath I hate this flea hole…" Hawke mused angrily as she shook out her hand.

Isabela smothered a laugh, as she looked down at Hawke's swelling knuckles. "_Temper, temper_! Lady Hawke in a Lowtown bar fight. What _will_ people think?"

Hawke frowned down at her hand. "That the Kirkwall Killer murdered the wrong Amell."

"You are far too easy to rile up, sweet thing. All somebody needs to do is push your little rage buttons, and then off you go, assaulting senior citizens. You know he'll probably press charges, don't you?"

Hawke nodded grimly. "Yes, but I'm sure Aveline will have them buried for me. She's always _so_ protective..."

"The big girl has her uses, then. I must say though, you have a terrible punching technique. It completely gives you away as an amateur." Isabela reached out to take a look at the knuckles, but Hawke quickly pulled her hand out of reach.

"Don't touch me. I mean... I'm fine. But I would like to speak with you. Can you meet me at my house tonight?"

Isabela nodded stiffly. She looked at Hawke closely. The face was the same, but, different. There was an anger and bitterness brimming beneath the surface, and Isabela knew that she was responsible for it.

Hawke gestured to the unconscious body of Gamlen Amell. "If you're here when he comes to… Hit him again."

Isabela watched the familiar sway of Hawke's hips as she walked out the door, and felt a flutter in her abdomen that had been dormant for the last three years.


	35. Chapter 35

**35**

Isabela knocked on the door, feeling like a stranger back in Hightown. She didn't know why she'd come, or what Hawke wanted from her. This was not a part of her plan to slip quietly in and out of Kirkwall. Yet her feet had worked of their own accord, treading the well known path from the Hanged Man to Hawke's mansion.

"Ah, Mistress Isabela, it's wonderful to see you again. Lady Hawke didn't tell me we were expecting you" Bodahn said, answering the door.

"Hello Bodahn. Is she here?" Isabela asked, walking past him.

"Yes. I will just announce your arrival." The dwarf waddled up the stairs, towards Hawke's bedroom.

Isabela looked around the room. It felt like a lifetime since she'd been in the house. Hawke appeared at the top of the stairs, and Isabela felt her breath catch in her throat. This was the most beautiful Isabela had ever seen Hawke look. Her long hair was pulled up in an ornate hairstyle, showing off her smooth, thin neck, and the colour of her robes brought out the intense blue of the mage's eyes. Isabela felt a drum of arousal between her legs as she looked upon her former lover.

"How are the knuckles, scrapper? It took Gamlen a good 20 minutes to regain consciousness, not a bad effort for your first fight."

A small smile played on Hawke's lips. "Well, I'm _so_ happy you approve."

"Approve? I feel like a proud mother hen. Your Uncle is a complete pig, he deserved it. I don't even know how you two can be related, it boggles the mind."

Hawke made her way down the stairs. "It's been a long time coming. Hopefully he'll think twice before he sexually harasses you again."

Isabela leaned against the stairwell, and gestured at Hawke's outfit. "Got a hot date?"

Hawke looked down at her formal robes. "Oh, this? Yes... I mean... No. But I do have to go out. There's a banquet at the Keep tonight. It gets held every year, on the anniversary of the attack." She thumbed her scar absentmindedly.

Isabela straightened up. The last topic she wanted to touch was the Qunari attack. "Why am I here, Hawke? We said everything that needed to be said at the tavern. I don't really think that there's anything left to talk about."

Hawke paused. "Perhaps there's not. I don't know why I invited you, come to think of it. I suppose… I just slipped into an old habit. But since you're here, we might as well catch up. How have you been? After you left... I lost many nights of sleep worrying about you."

"You needn't have. I was looking after myself long before I met you, Hawke. You don't need to insert yourself into all of my battles."

Hawke chuckled. "Yes, I'll remember that the next time you need me to save your life. Can I get you a drink?"

Isabela nodded, and Hawke headed in the direction of the kitchen. Isabela's eyes scanned the room, and her gaze was caught by Hawke's staff, which was leaning against her writing desk. She couldn't help but admire it. It was shiny and black, dragon bone, by Isabela's guess. It was ornately crafted into interweaved pieces, with a large, ice focus crystal at the firing end, and a vicious looking scythe on the other end. Hawke appeared a moment later, handing Isabela a glass of whiskey.

"New toy?" Isabela asked, gesturing to the mage's staff.

Hawke looked at it with pride. "Ah, yes, it's beautiful, isn't it? A friend had it made for me. It was crafted to fit specifically into my hand, and it channels my powers perfectly. I have not seen its equal before or since."

"That's an expensive gift. Was this a friend, or a _friend_?" Isabela asked as she felt a small pang of jealousy in her chest.

Hawke averted her eyes. "Does it matter?"

Isabela didn't answer. It shouldn't matter. It was none of her business. But she found herself inescapably drawn to Hawke. The attraction, the feelings, it was like she was 25 years old again, checking out those curves for the first time.

Hawke gestured for Isabela to sit on the couch, and took a seat beside her. The women settled into an awkward silence.

Hawke laughed softly. "Look at us, sitting here not knowing what to say. It's hard to believe how close we used to be."

Isabela sipped her drink. "It's not like we spent our time talking, Hawke."

Hawke blushed lightly, but kept her voice even. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Aw, you're blushing. Why? Does the memory make you that uncomfortable?"

Hawke shook her head. "No, not uncomfortable. Just… I don't know… I guess I haven't thought about you in that way for a while." Her eyes darted quickly to the curve of Isabela's breasts, and she swallowed deeply.

Isabela could feel the body heat rising from the mage beside her. Hawke still desired her, Isabela could sense it. She hadn't kissed anybody in such a long time, and she missed kissing Hawke most of all. She took a deep breath and leaned into Hawke, pressing their mouths and bodies together. Hawke relaxed into the kiss for a split second, her mouth as warm and as soft as Isabela remembered. Then her lips stiffened, and she put both hands on Isabela's shoulders, gently pushing her away.

"No Isabela, I don't think that's wise" Hawke said quietly.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course, Maker forbid you do anything _unwise_."

Hawke met Isabela's gaze, and frowned. "I was trying to be polite. What I meant to say was; don't fucking kiss me again."

Isabela laughed. Varric had been right. Hawke had changed, and Isabela wasn't sure what to make of her now.

Isabela sat back. "Fair enough. I suppose I wouldn't want to make an enemy of your generous _friend_, anyway."

"I don't have a _friend_, Isabela. Maybe I just don't want to be tonight's piece of arse, or rut-buddy, or playmate, or whatever else it was that you used to call me to diminish my significance. I'm not interested in what you have to offer."

Isabela touched the beating pulse in the mage's neck, and the skin of her neckline prickled under the touch. "You _say_ that, but your body is telling a different story."

Hawke swiped Isabela's hand away. "Your tricks won't work on me. If you're looking to get off, I'll give you some coin and walk you to the Rose for a whore, but don't you ever come to me for that again."

Isabela scoffed. "That's not what I'm after. You're just such a boring prig, I thought I'd get you to do the only half interesting thing that you're capable of."

Hawke stood and gestured violently to the door. "Get out of my house. Finish your business, and leave Kirkwall. I don't want to see you again."

Isabela stood, and walked smugly to the door, taking in the beautiful sight of an angry Hawke.


	36. Chapter 36

**36**

**HAWKE**

Her hands were shaking and her palms were clammy. She felt the anger rising inside her, like a tide of freezing cold water.

"That fucking bitch!" she screamed as she picked up the glass of whiskey that Isabela had been drinking and threw it at the closed front door.

_How dare she kiss me_?! she thought furiously to herself. She rubbed her lips, where the contact from the kiss was still tingling. She took a steadying breath as she tried to calm down. _You wanted to kiss her back_, the voice in her head taunted, _you were blushing like a 16 year old maiden at her __debutante ball_. She angrily banished it.

Orana came scurrying in. "Are you alright, mistress?" She got down on her hands and knees and started picking up the pieces of shattered glass.

Hawke reached down and touched her hand. "Don't, Orana, I'll clean it up. I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"No mistress, I'm not frightened of you. But please, let me clean it, you're going to be late."

Hawke looked out the window at the gathering dark. She trudged over to her desk and picked up her staff, strapping it onto her back. She put her shoulders back. She would get to see _him_ tonight.

She knew she'd told him it was over, but she could make an exception tonight. He always made her feel better. Isabela was the disease, and he was the remedy.

She gave Orana an affectionate pat on the shoulder on the way out. She would have to buy her maid something nice to apologise. Her behaviour had been terrible lately.

* * *

The Arishok's skull stared across the room with its empty eye sockets. Hawke always hated the sight of it, and avoided the Keep for this very reason. She'd had no qualm with the Arishok, he was an honourable man, and she hated the fact that she had killed him. It hadn't even been worth it. If she could go back, she would have bound and gagged Isabela for them herself. _You are so full of shit_, the voice in her head pounced on the thoughts immediately, _you'd kill him 100 times over, just to buy her one more minute of life_.

Hawke crossed the room and went straight for _him_. He was standing with _her_, but Hawke didn't care.

"Champion" _she_ said curtly.

Hawke bowed her head graciously in response.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Good evening, my lady" he said politely, his eyes betraying the tenderness between them.

"You're either very bold, or very stupid, to be wearing your staff around like that" _she_ interjected.

Hawke gave a bitter smile. "I think we both know that I'm not stupid."

_She_ turned on her heel and crossed the room. Hawke stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. "Meet me in the Viscount's office."

He looked at her with trepidation. "You can't be serious?"

Hawke nodded. "I am very serious."

He scanned the crowd, making sure nobody was listening. "You said it was over?"

She resisted the urge to touch him in public. "It is. But I need to see you. Just one last time. Please?"

He exhaled loudly. "Very well. I'll be there in five minutes."

* * *

"_This_ is a terrible idea. I can try to sneak out tonight and come by your house?" he said quietly as he shut the door behind him.

"No" she said quickly undoing his pants, "she'll never let you out."

"Champion - " he started to say, but she stopped him as she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

He swelled with the sensation, and she stood in front of him, pulling him towards her, backing herself up until she hit the Viscount's desk. She bent over backwards and pulled him with her, wrapping her legs around him. She could see the cautious words start to bubble to his lips, but she silenced them as she guided him into her, fitting him like a glove.

"If I sent word, and told you to flee, would you?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mmm… what?" he asked, too distracted for conversation.

"If I knew something bad was going to happen, and I told you to leave, would you?"

He slowed his pace. "It would… depend, my lady. Probably not. I have a duty."

Her face fell. She'd known that would be his answer. "_It's worth any sacrifice_", Anders' voice echoed in her head.

"What do you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Keep going."

He thrust his hips furiously as she begged him to go faster and harder, and they kissed roughly to silence each other's moans.

* * *

"What in the flaming Void is this?!" Aveline's voice cut through their post-coital glow. She stood in the opened doorway, her face a mask of shock. She quickly stepped in and closed the door behind her. "Have you both gone mad?!" she demanded, looking between Hawke and her partner.

He blushed furiously and moved lightning fast to redress himself. "This isn't what it looks like, Guard-Captain…" he stammered.

Aveline glared at him sternly. "Do I look like an idiot? You have the Champion of Kirkwall bent over the Viscount's desk, man!"

"Yes, but… err…"

"Save it. The Knight-Commander is waiting to start the speeches. You've disgraced yourself and broken your vows. Get out of here, I need to speak to Hawke."

Hawke stood and flung her arms around him, kissing him deeply one last time. Even if they hadn't already planned this being the last time, now that they'd been discovered, they had no choice. Aveline cleared her throat, and they broke apart, Hawke reaching up and wiping her lipstick off his mouth with her thumb. They shared one last look, and he stepped past her, walking out of the office.

Hawke's eyes came to rest on Aveline. "What?" she asked petulantly.

"You have pulled some ridiculous stunts in the last few years Hawke, but this is just… What were you thinking of?!"

Hawke smiled. "I think it's pretty obvious what I was thinking of, Aveline. You're a married woman, I'd have thought you would understand."

Hawke took a step back when she realised that Aveline looked ready to hit her. She'd only been hit by the Guard-Captain once, when Aveline had discovered how close Hawke had become with Anders. It hadn't been pleasant, and her back two teeth were still loose because if it.

"I _am_ a married woman, that's right. And _you_ are not. And I have just caught you with your legs wrapped around the last man in Kirkwall that you could ever marry!"

Hawke scoffed. "I wasn't proposing to him Aveline. I was getting fu-"

"Stop it Hawke! This self-destruction needs to end. I know you've had a rough few years, but Maker's breath girl, get yourself together."

"Well, you needn't worry yourself about it. That was the last time."

"What?! What do you mean that was the last time? I thought it was the first time!"

Hawke smirked. "Surprise."

"Andraste's sword, you're a fool. Do you know how hard people have worked to keep you out of the Gallows? And you've been gallivanting around with _him_?"

Hawke nodded angrily. "Yes, people have protected me. Like _you_. Protecting me from information that I had every right to know."

"Hawke…"

"No, Aveline. I should have heard that Isabela was back from you, not some shady elf who sold me the information for a handful of sovereigns. I _deserved_ to know."

Aveline shook her head sadly. "No, you didn't. You didn't deserve any of the things she put you through, least of all having her pop up out of nowhere after all this time to mess with your head again."

"Aveline, I say this with love, but please, listen to me. I am not a fucking baby. I am 27 years old. Why do you always treat me with cotton gloves? I downed the top Qunari General in single combat, and you still treat me like a slight breeze would break me."

"It's a force of habit, Hawke. You're strong now, but for a long time, you weren't. Even now, your strength is only fuelled by how angry you are with the world. You can't keep that up forever."

Hawke threw her arms up. "Does it matter what fuels it? I'm strong, that's the main thing. I can handle anything that this shitty world has to offer. Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Aveline crossed her arms. "You saw her, didn't you? That's what this insanity is about."

Hawke leaned her hands on the desk. "Yes, I saw her."

"You are just following stupidity with stupidity. Why would you see her? You should be over her, Hawke."

Hawke frowned at Aveline. "Says you! You wouldn't even accept the Feast Day gift I got you last year because replacing Wesley's shield was too much for you. Don't give me lessons in moving on!"

"_That_ was different. Wesley _died_!"

"Different? Why? Because the person you loved was taken from you, and the person I loved left me by choice? Is that honestly supposed to make it easier for me?"

Aveline sighed, admitting defeat. It was rare for Hawke to discuss Isabela at all, let alone the damage her absence had caused. "No, I suppose you're right. Nobody can tell you how long to grieve for someone, especially not me. I'm sorry Hawke. Just, promise me that the next time I catch you with your legs in the air, it's not going to be with him. _Or_ Isabela. Or, in a wildly inappropriate location, for that matter!"

"I promise" Hawke said.

Aveline looked at her doubtfully. Hawke was still a terrible liar.


	37. Chapter 37

**37**

It was just after dawn, when she canvassed Hightown, and found the Comte's mansion. He must have known that he was a wanted man, as he had heavy locks, magical barriers across his windows, and a pair of stone security sentinels. It was nothing that Isabela couldn't handle. She hadn't gained the reputation as The Orlesian Crows sharpest knife for nothing. She found a loose tile on the roof of his mansion, and her entry route was planned. She would do the deed tonight.

She watched the house for most of the morning. The Comte seemed to be in the constant company of his pretty Comtesse. It was a shame, but there was often collateral damage during high-stake assassinations, and the woman would be in the way.

The night at Hawke's had answered her questions. The connection was undeniable, but Hawke was trapped somewhere between love and hate. It was too complicated, and the kiss had been a mistake. Isabela didn't even know why she'd even done it. She came to Kirkwall for business, not to reopen old wounds. The sooner this man was dead, the sooner she could get away from Hawke, and all the confusion that was brought by merely being in her presence.

Isabela went back to The Hanged Man, sharpened her blades and took a nap. She would need to be well rested and at her best for tonight.

* * *

Isabela dropped in through the roof, landing silently on the lush carpet. She took in her surroundings. She was in the study. If she remembered correctly, the Comte's bedroom was two rooms over. It was a few hours past midnight. The De Launcet's would be deeply asleep by now. Isabela had tipped her knives with a poison that would make death instantaneous.

She kept to the shadows and treaded lightly. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, making her job that much easier. She silently stepped past the open door, and crept into the bedroom. The room was pitch black, making her acutely aware of her other four senses. A familiar scent tickled her nostril, and she instantly dropped to the floor. She hit the carpet and ducked under the bed a split second before a crack of lightning went shooting in the direction that she had just been standing.

"Hawke, stop, it's me!" she called out desperately, praying that the next round of bolts would not find her.

"Isabela?" the mage's voice cut through the silence. Isabela heard Hawke click her fingers, and all the lanterns in the room were suddenly lit. "_This_ is the business that you're in Kirkwall for? You're a sodding assassin now? I should have known. You suddenly appear again, right at the same time as a hit is called…" The mage was sitting on the bed, fully dressed. The Comte and Comtesse were nowhere to be seen.

"Where is he, Hawke?" Isabela demanded.

Hawke crossed her arms over her chest. "As if I would tell you! You intend to kill the man!"

"Hawke, you don't understand. He has pissed off a lot of Orlesians. I was paid a great deal of money - up front - to do this. If he doesn't die, they will be sending someone after me."

"Do you know why he's pissed off so many Orlesians?" Hawke asked, getting off the bed and standing a few feet in front of Isabela.

"No. It doesn't matter. They paid for a service. One that I am going to render."

Hawke took a step forward. "It doesn't matter? Of course it matters! You were going to kill him, and probably his wife too. The Orlesians hate the De Launcet's because the family actively campaigned to end the Orlesian rule over Ferelden. They got aid sent to Denerim during the Blight, and their latest transgression is setting up a charity for Fereldan refugees. He's a good man, Isabela."

Isabela sighed. "I don't care about Ferelden. I need to kill him. Whatever they're paying you to be here, I'll meet it. Give me their location, and I'll double it. Just walk away from this, Hawke."

Hawke met Isabela's eyes defiantly. "I'm not here because they paid me. I'm here because they're my friends. The De Launcet's are under my personal protection. If you wish to fulfil this contract, you'll have to go through me."

Isabela pulled out her knives. "Don't test me, Hawke. I've done some seriously terrible things to ensure my own survival. You, of all people, should remember that."

Hawke walked slowly towards Isabela. "Then go on, do it. It won't be the first time you've betrayed me, nor the first time I've felt the bite of your blades. But, I hope you're sure. I won't wake up from dreamland, this time."

The tension was palpable as Isabela met Hawke's stare. "You're serious? You would really die for this principle?"

Hawke's jaw set. "Yes. And you would really murder me for a bit of coin. So we're left with only one possible outcome. Would it make it easier for you if I turned around? After all, I know you prefer to stick your knives into people's backs."

Isabela paused for a long moment, anger and frustration ebbing away at her. This wasn't the first time her life had been in the balance, and Hawke had refused to take her side. It would be easier to kill her, especially as she stood in front of Isabela, unarmed, hands behind her back and all her vitals exposed.

The moment seemed to last forever, Isabela silently contemplating, until she finally conceded defeat. "Maker damn you, Hawke! I'm going to die because of you. If Castillion's men don't find me soon, the Crows definitely will!"

"Nobody will hurt you, Isabela" Hawke responded calmly.

"You say that as if you have any control over it! You don't know these people, you can't stop them."

Hawke looked Isabela in the eyes with sincerity. "The horned skull of the last man who meant to do you harm is still mounted on the wall of the Viscount's Keep. You have my word, Isabela, no harm will come to you."

Isabela sighed angrily. "I believe you. Or, I believe, that you believe. Maybe that's enough… Ugh… fine, you win. Consider the contract cancelled."


	38. Chapter 38

**38**

The elven messenger boy walked into the tavern, looking as frightened as a mouse. He approached Isabela tentatively and handed over a rolled up parchment. She eyed the paper cylinder suspiciously, but took it, and opened it.

_Isabela,_

_I have news regarding my promise._  
_Please, come and meet me at my house this afternoon._  
_Travel in the daylight._

_Hawke_

"How did you know I was the one you were supposed to deliver it to?" she asked after reading it.

His eyes were downcast, and he blushed furiously. "She said that… uh… you would be the pretty girl sitting at the bar, with the enormous…" He drifted off mid-sentence, and his eyes fixed squarely on her breasts.

Isabela laughed. She was happy to hear that Hawke still described her so fondly. "Thank you" she said dismissively, and the elf ran out of the tavern.

It had been over a month since her interrupted assassination attempt. The Crows would have placed the bounty on her head by now. At least she had common sense on her side. The last place they would look for her was Kirkwall. Who would be stupid enough to stay in their last known whereabouts?

She downed the rest of her drink, folded the parchment and put it in her pocket, then headed for Hightown.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Isabela. It puts me so at ease to see that despite my various security upgrades, someone is still able to make such light work of my locks. An assassin, no less" Hawke said, turning around at her writing desk.

Isabela laughed. "Don't be afraid, sweet thing, I guarantee you nobody else could pick that lock."

Hawke pursed her lips. "Please don't call me that."

She stood up and handed Isabela a small stack of papers. They were shipping manifests, and Isabela really couldn't be bothered reading them.

"Just cut to the chase, Hawke. Why am I here? What are these?" She handed the papers back.

Hawke leaned against her desk, putting her hands behind her to brace herself, her breasts sitting up in her dress in a most distracting way. "If my information is correct, and it's always correct, a ship belonging to Castillion docked in Kirkwall Harbour three days ago. Castillion has gone into hiding somewhere in the city, but one of his lieutenants, Velasco, is searching for you."

Isabela remembered him well. A violent, sexist pig, who'd always had an open dislike for her. "Ah, Velasco. Still as thick as two posts, I see. I'm hardly difficult to find."

Hawke smiled, and continued. "They've probably been after you since you handed the tome over to the Qunari. I suppose your… _lifestyle_… inhibited them getting a fix on your location. Your ties to the Crows would've helped scare them off, too. Oh, there's an 80 sovereign bounty on your head, by the way…"

Despite the unsettling news that her life was now officially at risk from two different sources, Isabela was impressed that she had commanded such a big price. "Well what's the plan? You're the one that got me into this mess."

Hawke snorted. "I'm the reason that half of Thedas wants you dead? No, you managed that all on your own, my dear. But don't worry, I have a plan."

"Which is?"

"I have sent word to Castillion. I have told him that I will deliver you to Velasco, as long as he agrees to my reward."

"I fail to see how letting Castillion kill me is a plan that you think I'd agree to."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "That is not my plan. What I propose is this; I deliver you to Velasco under the guise of getting my reward. I follow you to the drop off point, and when Castillion comes to collect you, we can confront him head on."

"_That's_ your plan? Hand me over to a killer, and just hope that he doesn't spot the great Champion of Kirkwall over his shoulder? I'm all for bold plans, Hawke, but this one seems suicidal."

Hawke continued on patiently. "I won't tail you directly, I'll get you to leave me a trail, so that I can remain undetected as I follow you."

"What kind of trail?"

Hawke reached into her desk drawer, and pulled out a small parcel. She unwrapped it and pulled out a necklace. It was unlike anything Isabela had ever seen, made up of large, luminous gold gems.

"A necklace…?" Isabela asked, looking at the jewellery in confusion.

Hawke took an end in each hand, and pulled hard. The chain snapped, and the gems spilled into her palm. "Use these. They stand out in the sunlight, and they're full of magic, so I'll be able to sense them, even if I can't see them."

"Oh Hawke, you ruined your pretty necklace!" Isabela said mournfully.

Hawke laughed. "It's not mine. I bought it for you, actually, many years ago, so it's fitting that you should use it now."

"This was… for me?" Isabela asked, looking down at the gorgeous gems glittering in Hawke's hands.

Hawke nodded. "I saw it one day, and I thought it would match your eyes. The beads are enchanted with a protection spell, to silence the worrier in me. I was going to give it to you for your 29th name-day but I… decided against it. I don't know why I've kept it all these years. Silly, really. But, it will serve a purpose now."

The pirate swallowed hard to clear the lump in her throat. She would have liked this gift. She had forgotten how romantic Hawke was, until Isabela had taught her not to be.

"Well, hand them over…" she said, gesturing to the gems. Hawke did so, and Isabela slipped them down her cleavage.

"I think it would be best if you stayed here. We'll go to the Blooming Rose to meet Velasco tomorrow, but I can better protect you here tonight, in case they smarten up and find your terrible hiding place at the tavern."

Isabela felt a flutter in her chest. "You want me to… stay the night?"

Hawke nodded. "Orana has already made up the guest bedroom. It's been a few years since I've experienced one of the mattresses at the tavern, but I'm sure you'll find the spare bed more comfortable."

"Thank you, Hawke…" Isabela said quietly.


	39. Chapter 39

**39**

She tossed and turned in the big, comfortable bed. She had spent her nights with Hawke in a bed like this, but she'd never actually laid down and tried to sleep in one. She stared at the high ceiling. Hawke would be asleep, in the room right above her. _I wonder if she still sleeps naked_…

Isabela stood. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she couldn't stay lying in this bed. She crept out of the guest bedroom, and padded towards the stairs.

"You can't sleep?" the familiar, accented voice rang out. She turned and saw Hawke sitting by the fire, in a thinly strapped black nightgown.

"No. I was just… getting up for a glass of water. You?"

Hawke stared at the fire. "I can't protect you very well when my eyes are closed."

Isabela put her hands on her hips. "I am not some Orlesian wallflower who's never held a blade before. I am very capable of defending myself, Hawke. Stop being a goose and go and get some sleep."

Hawke shook her head. "No. My track record is not... ideal. Bethany, my mother... I will never let anybody down like that again. You're under my protection, and I won't rest until Castillion is dead."

Isabela eyed Hawke off dubiously, but said no more on the subject. "I wanted to thank you, Hawke, for helping me. You've always been good to me, and I often haven't deserved it. I suppose I've been a pretty terrible friend since I came back."

Hawke shrugged. "We were never friends, Isabela. We were always fighting, and then we were… something more, whatever that was. And then you were gone. You don't know how to be friends with me, and I don't know how to be friends with you. It will be a learning curve for the both of us."

Isabela nodded. "What I said that night, after I tried to kiss you…"

Hawke put her hand up for silence. "Don't worry, Isabela, you didn't get under my skin. I know my worth. Besides, we've both said some unfortunate things. It's been… confusing. But enough about that. Follow me. I'll get you that glass of water."

Isabela followed Hawke into the kitchen, where Hawke rummaged around in a cupboard for a moment, before handing Isabela a glass of whiskey.

Isabela laughed. "You know me too well, Hawke" she said, leaning against the bench and taking a long sip.

"I used to," Hawke said quietly.

Isabela looked over at the mage, who was leaning against the opposite bench. "I've never had anybody like you in my life before. You've always had my back."

Hawke shrugged. "You've made it incredibly difficult, but I have tried to. I'm glad you can at least see that."

Isabela swallowed hard. "What you did for me that day, with the Arishok… Nobody's ever stood up for me like that. You saved my life. I've never even thanked you for it."

Hawke shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, you saved my life that day, too."

Isabela laughed at Hawke's jest, until she saw the mage's serious expression. "You do realise you were nearly killed because of me?"

Hawke nodded. "Nearly. He had me by the throat, and I felt the blackness closing in on me. But then I looked up, and I saw your face. I thought, for a minute, that I had something to fight for..."

Isabela looked at her feet. She remembered the moment. She'd always thought she'd imagined it. She raised her eyes and found Hawke's gaze upon her, and the look that passed between them seemed to last an eternity.

Without a word, Hawke stepped forward, knocking the glass of whiskey out of Isabela's hands and letting it shatter on the floor below. She grabbed both sides of Isabela's face and pushed her against the bench, pressing their mouths together, hard. Isabela parted her lips as Hawke's tongue entered her mouth. Hawke kissed her desperately, putting three years of pent up emotion into the action.

She picked Isabela up and sat her on the bench, standing between the pirate's open legs. Isabela put her hands on the back of Hawke's neck, holding the younger woman close, completely submitting to her lover for the first time. Hawke ran her hand up Isabela's thigh and under her tunic. She slipped her hand into the pirate's undergarments, and her fingers found Isabela wet and waiting. Her index finger instantly found that inner spot in a way that only a woman can, while her thumb stimulated Isabela's external pleasure point. Isabela ground her hips and wrapped her legs around Hawke's waist, as the mage's fingers continued their ministrations. Hawke remembered the way that Isabela liked to be pleased with stunning clarity.

Isabela dragged her nails across the exposed skin of Hawke's shoulders, as Hawke's pace quickened. Hawke bit Isabela's lip sharply, and Isabela broke away with a gasp. Hawke grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, kissing and sucking the exposed flesh of Isabela's revealing neckline. Isabela arched her back and felt her legs shake as she gave her throaty moan of pleasure.

Hawke gently stroked as Isabela's body convulsed with the aftershocks. Isabela struggled to regain her breath, while Hawke leaned her head on Isabela's left breast for a moment, listening to the pirate's pounding heart. Then she removed her hand from Isabela's undergarments, and stood back.

Isabela had never seen the mage look so ashamed of herself.

"Maker's breath… What's wrong with me? I swore this wouldn't happen. Just… get out of here, Isabela."

"Hawke…" Isabela started, reaching out for her hands, but Hawke took another step back.

"You've had your drink and your… _release_. As I recall, that's all that matters to you. You should sleep like a baby."

"Don't get angry with me, Hawke, you started that!"

"I know I did. And I already regret it. Let's not complicate things any further. Please just, go to bed."

Isabela bit her lower lip and nodded.


	40. Chapter 40

**40**

They stood outside Velasco's room. From the grunts they could hear from within, he was busy with one of the girls, but they didn't have all day to stand around politely and wait.

"I'm starting to have doubts about this… You know what a terrible liar I am," Hawke whispered, turning to Isabela, doubt written on her features.

"Get it together, Hawke. Just think of every awful thing I've ever done to you. There should be more than enough material to draw from. Don't hold back, this needs to be convincing."

Hawke nodded. "I suppose that should be easy enough. Okay, let's get this over with and… I'm sorry."

The mage grabbed a handful of Isabela's hair and dragged her towards the room. She burst through the door, and the two women were confronted by the image of Velasco, standing at the end of the bed, pants down to his knees, with an elven prostitute bent over in front of him. He immediately stopped his thrusting.

"What is this? I've paid for the whole night!" he said angrily.

"My name is Hawke, and you were told to expect me. Put your manhood away, and let's talk payment." She threw Isabela to the ground roughly.

"Ah, the Champion. You are more beautiful than I was told. Perhaps you and my friend here would like to swap places, no?" he said, gesturing to the elf woman that was on all fours in front of him.

A look of utter disgust swept across Hawke's face. "You think that a woman like me would let herself be taken like a dog by you? Be serious, Velasco. Give me my money and I'll be on my way. I'll be happy to be rid of this burden" she said, throwing a dirty look in Isabela's direction.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me, Hawke! I trusted you!" Isabela yelled, trying to make the betrayal seem plausible.

Hawke shot her a withering look. "Why is it so hard to believe? You're a traitor, Isabela. You've done nothing but cause me pain. Why would I help you now? Once you're dead, I will finally be free of you."

A moment of panic overcame Isabela. That hit far too close to home. She tried to read Hawke's expression, deciding if this was a part of the act or not, but the mage's face was a perfect mask of hatred and bitterness.

The elven prostitute gathered her things together and scurried out of the room, as Velasco, now fully dressed, pulled a coin purse out of his coat pocket. "Your reward, Champion. And Castillion sends his regards. He hopes that you two will work together again in the future."

Hawke accepted the purse, and nodded. "I look forward to it. And tell him not to be gentle with the Rivaini whore." She spat on the ground at Isabela's feet, and the pirate felt the sudden realisation hit her.

She had stepped into a trap.

Hawke turned and left, as Velasco grabbed Isabela roughly by the arms. "Oh, Castillion is going to be so happy to see you. If you'd faced him years ago, you would've gotten a quick death. But now… He's had years to think of the ways he's going to hurt you first. What a shame, my pretty little pirate."

* * *

Isabela dropped the gems on the ground in earnest. She knew that Hawke had betrayed her, she felt it in her bones. She couldn't even be angry, not really, she was so impressed by the mage's newfound powers of cunning and deception. Isabela learned long ago to trust nobody, and only ever rely on herself. She had forgotten those lessons, and Hawke had outmanoeuvred her. Isabela could respect that.

_Well played, Hawke, well played…_

Velasco finally stopped at their destination, a warehouse at the Docks. He dragged Isabela through the door by the arm, and pushed her up against a support beam.

"Look at what I've got boys! Captain Isabela's mabari bitch has finally turned on her. There'll be no public duels for her life, this time!" Velasco announced to the pair of armed guards that were waiting at the waterside.

They leered at her as Velasco removed her knives, roughly running his hands all over her body to find any hidden blades. "You and your doglord interrupted me before. I think you need to help me finish, Isabela."

"That's not happening, Velasco. I do have some standards."

He pushed himself against her. His breath stank. The elven prostitute must have been relieved to have been taken from behind. Isabela would have no such luck. He threw her to the ground and stood above her, unbuckling his belt.

"What are you doing?!" she demanded.

"I am going to have some fun with you. I hear you do your best work on your back. The only thing you're any good for."

"You will have to kill me first, Velasco" she said, as he fiddled with the fasteners on his pants.

Velasco hit her across the face with a forceful backhand. Isabela felt her lip split immediately and blood spurted down her chin. Her cheek was hot and stinging, but she stared up at him defiantly.

He licked his lips as his eyes devoured her. "There's no need for such dramatic measures, Isabela. I like women that put up a fight."

Isabela got desperate. "Don't, Velasco, please" she begged.

He motioned to his guards, and they moved to either side of her, pinning her to the ground by her arms. He leaned over her, engulfing her with his putrid breath. "I always wondered what you were working with under these clothes…" He used one of her blades, and with a quick swipe, he cut the lacing at the front of her tunic, exposing her breasts. "_Very nice, captain_…" he whispered.

Isabela closed her eyes tightly, and waited for the inevitable.


	41. Chapter 41

**41**

Isabela's eyes shot open at the sound of a man screaming. Velasco had been thrown across the room and pinned to the wooden beam that he had held Isabela against only moments earlier. He screamed in agony and clawed at his own eyes, as blood started pouring from his ears and nose.

Hawke made her way down the stairs, flanked by Aveline and Varric. Her eyes were a blaze of rage as she held the would-be -rapist in the throes of a powerful torture spell.

"Ugh, put an end to it, Hawke" Aveline grimaced, finding the screams of Velasco distasteful.

Isabela watched in tremendous satisfaction as Velasco went up in flames. He flailed and screamed and dropped to the ground. The smell of his searing flesh was repulsive. He died quickly, but in unimaginable pain.

"Take your filthy hands off of her! Lay down your swords, and I may let you leave here with your lives" Hawke said to the two guards in a commanding voice that Isabela had never heard before.

They both let Isabela go and backed up, unclipping their sword belts and dropping them to the ground. Hawke approached them, twirling her staff and looking them both up and down. She came to a stop in front of them, and in one single, fluid motion, she slashed the scythe at the end of her staff across both their necks, cleanly taking their heads off.

"Hawke! Was that necessary? They had dropped their blades!" Aveline yelled.

"Stand down, Aveline. Don't question me. You saw what we just walked in on" Hawke shot back.

"I would've seen them brought to justice. Kirkwall's justice, not yours!"

Hawke rested her furious gaze upon Aveline. "Don't you ever speak to me of Kirkwall's justice!" The rest remained unsaid, as the Guard-Captain flushed and fumed silently.

"Just out of curiosity, if we weren't here, how long would that torture curse have gone on for?" Varric asked quietly.

Hawke's face darkened. "Some people don't deserve a quick death."

"Kid… this has got to stop. You're getting worse…" Varric added gently.

"There are three less rapists in the world, and I'll hear no more on it. Now can you both be quiet and face the wall while I look after our friend?!" Hawke instructed, kneeling by Isabela, who had begun to shake uncontrollably.

Hawke helped Isabela to her feet, leading her, half naked, to the back room. She sat her down on a crate.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, her face etched with concern.

Isabela could only manage a nod.

"Was I… too late?" Hawke asked, cringing away from the answer.

"No, you arrived just in time…" Isabela whispered.

Relief flooded the mage's face. "Thank the Maker! I don't know how I would've lived with myself if they…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"I didn't think you'd come. The things you said, at The Rose, they were all true…"

"Well, you did tell me to make it convincing."

"Hearing it from your mouth, Hawke… I thought you'd finally turned your back on me…" Isabela's voice came out small and weak, and she kept her eyes trained on her feet.

Hawke cupped Isabela's chin in her hand, tilting her face up, and looking her deeply in the eyes. "Never."

Isabela leaned forward, putting her head on her former lover's chest, allowing Hawke to wrap her arms around her and gently pat her hair. They stayed like that for a long moment, until Isabela had the strength to face Hawke again.

"Now let me look at you" Hawke said, looking Isabela up and down appraisingly, noting the split lip from Velasco's slap. "Hold still" she instructed. She reached her hand up to Isabela's face, resting her palm softly on her cheek. Hawke gently drew her thumb across Isabela's busted bottom lip, and the area was overcome by an unnatural warmth. The pain stopped suddenly, and Hawke withdrew her hand.

"You can heal now?" Isabela asked, touching her finger to the smooth skin that had been a bleeding wound just a moment earlier.

"Yes. Anders taught me. After… the battle, I took an interest in the skill. It's been very useful," she answered as she sat down beside Isabela and started unlacing her boots.

"What were you doing to Velasco in there?" Isabela asked, her eyes transfixed as Hawke's fingers quickly unthreaded the laces.

Hawke cleared her throat. "I… boiled the blood in his brain."

"I thought you hated dark magic?" Isabela ventured, glancing quickly at Hawke's face.

Hawke's finger movements slowed. "I… was very idealistic when you used to know me. Dark magic has a lot of uses."

"Does it? I'm not complaining, that bastard deserved it, but - "

Hawke inclined her head awkwardly. "I... was in a bad place. I hated myself, I hated my life, and I especially hated my magic. A friend stepped in, and suggested I find a way to channel my negativity. I went and stayed with the Dalish elves for a while, and the Keeper taught me some of their ancient magics. There are no demons involved, and I'm in control of it. Don't be afraid of me."

Isabela touched Hawke's arm. "I'm not afraid of you."

Hawke stood up, her two bootlaces loose in her hands. "Good. Now I'm going to need you to hold the fabric together and keep your girls in place while I fix your top."

Isabela nodded, and brought the two halves of her tunic together, covering the breasts that she had almost forgotten were exposed. Hawke threaded her boot laces through the loops of Isabela's tunic, bringing the material back together.

Hawke stepped back and admired her work. "It's not the best job, but it will get you home. I'll have some new tunics made for you by the merchant who makes my robes, if you'd like?"

"What about your boots?" Isabela asked.

"Better for me to be bare footed, than you to be bare breasted."

Isabela gave an involuntary smile. "Ah, good point."

Hawke put a gentle hand on the side of Isabela's cheek. "I… want to apologise for what happened last night. I was too rough, and I didn't even ask permission first…"

Isabela put a hand over Hawke's. "Do you always need a written invitation when a woman opens her mouth and legs for you?"

Hawke shook her head slowly. "I suppose not. But after what just happened… I don't know. I feel a bit sick, actually."

"You're not seriously comparing yourself to Velasco are you? He would have forced himself on me, and I would've fought him for every second of it. I enjoyed last night with you."

She stared into the face of her former lover. Hawke looked as soft and as loving as she had the last day that she'd spent at the Hanged Man with Isabela. _  
_

"I… enjoyed it too. Maybe there are things we still need to discuss, later?"

Isabela nodded. "I think there are."

Hawke hesitated, running her thumb over Isabela's cheek. Then she removed her hand, and nodded. "Let's go and join Aveline and Varric. We need to wait for our guest of honour."

* * *

Hawke was pacing the ground, twirling her staff. Isabela had never seen her look so agitated. The four companions had their eyes drawn to the main door of the warehouse as it swung open, and watched as Castillion and twenty of his guards entered. The warehouse was suddenly very crowded, with Isabela and her friends hopelessly outnumbered.

Castillion stood in front of the four companions, a look of amusement on his face. "Lady Hawke has double crossed me. How disappointing…" he mused.

Hawke's entire body tensed as she took place in front of Isabela.

"Wait Hawke, let me talk…" Isabela said softly. Hawke gritted her teeth and stood aside.

Isabela stood up straight and faced him. "Castillion, I have a deal for you."

"Isabela, it's been a while. You certainly travel in impressive, and lovely, company," he said, his eyes traveling up and down Hawke, "The Champion of Kirkwall as a personal bodyguard. You've done well."

"I can't say the same about the company you keep, but that has been remedied. Very painfully," Hawke cut in, gesturing to the charred corpse on the ground a few feet away.

"Poor Velasco, a good lieutenant, but, replaceable. What is this deal of yours, Isabela? What could you possibly have that I would want?" Castillion looked as smug as ever.

Hawke stepped between them and flared a fireball in her hands. "There will be no deals."

Castillion chuckled. "Ah Isabela, you never change. I did wonder why your mage friend stood against the Arishok for you, but now I see. Fereldans are such a funny people, so protective and loyal, especially once they've been bedded. I would pay good coin to know if she is this feisty between the sheets."

Hawke threw the fireball at his feet, forcing him to take a few steps back. "Your coin would be wasted. I would burn your tiny worm to ash before you'd gotten within ten feet of me."

Isabela stepped forward. "There is no need for worm burning, Hawke. We can solve this peacefully. Castillion, did you come here in that Antivan frigate?"

He nodded stiffly.

Isabela felt a rush. "I want that ship. Hawke single handedly stopped the Qunari army, imagine what she'll do to you. You give me your ship, and I won't let her kill you. You can walk away with your life. Take it, or leave it."

Hawke hissed air out through her teeth and rolled her hands into fists beside Isabela. "No! Castillion dies today!" she announced, shooting a huge bolt of electricity from her hand.

Castillion's body jolted wildly as the bolts lit him up from the inside out. He dropped to the ground, and his body shuddered a few times before becoming a still, smoking heap. Hawke was quick, and her powers had grown more than Isabela had realised. Every guard in the room was dead or dying within a few seconds.

Hawke whirled around on Isabela. If looks could kill, Isabela would have just taken her last breath of life. "You will never change. We risked our lives to get rid of him for you, and you would've thrown it all away? For a boat?"

"It's not a _boat_, Hawke, it's a world class ship, and now by the code of the sea, I can't have it" Isabela said hotly.

"The code of the sea, don't make me laugh. You're a criminal, Isabela, you live by your own code, just as you always have."

"Calm down, this wasn't personal."

The anger and bitterness were back in Hawke's eyes. "It wasn't personal?! Have you ever seen me as anything other than an object to be used by you? Need an Arishok killed? Just ask Hawke. Need to relieve a slaver of his ship? Hawke will help you with that. Need an orgasm? Just get on your back, Hawke will make it happen!"

"Umm... I think we might just wait outside" Varric said awkwardly as he and Aveline headed for the door.

"It wasn't like that" Isabela said through gritted teeth.

"It was exactly like that. And I allowed it, because I... ugh! Everybody warned me about you, but I refused to believe it. Maker forgive me, I wasn't even talking to my mother the day she died, because we had a fight about you. I thought I'd learned my lesson. And yet here I am, three years later, and you're still playing me like a fiddle. Fuck you, Isabela!"

Isabela felt herself soften. "I'm not trying to play you, Hawke. And… I'm sorry, about your mother. I know she didn't approve."

Hawke threw her hands up in the air. "Castillion is dead, one more problem of yours that I've dealt with. I'm done with you, I won't be used anymore. Take the ship, Isabela. Do what you will. I don't care anymore."


	42. Chapter 42

**42**

"Where in the name of Andraste's inverted nipples is she?!" Isabela demanded as she burst through the door to the Guard-Captain's office.

The gazes of a furious looking Aveline and a dozen shocked looking guards fell upon her.

Aveline straightened up in her seat. "You have your orders men, now clear out. I have a slutty pirate to deal with."

The guards filed past Isabela and out the door, one by one. When the last man had left and closed the door behind himself, Aveline turned to Isabela. "You have a lot of nerve, whore. I should give you a night in the brig after the way you just spoke to me in front of my men."

"Oh shut up, big girl. You'd have to catch me first, and we all know that you can't run fast enough when you're encased in armour up to your chin."

Aveline slammed her hands down and stood up from her desk. "What do you want, Isabela? I don't have time for your nonsense anymore! I would've thought you'd be halfway to Nevarra by now anyway, now that you have your long awaited ship."

"I have business to finish off, and you know it. I need to speak with Hawke. Where is she?!"

Aveline rolled her eyes. "She's left the Free Marches. I won't say any more than that to the likes of you. You promised me you would stay away!"

"I did! _She_ came to me!"

Aveline sighed. "I know she did. I should have realised she would. She's had a reward out for any information on your whereabouts since the day you left."

Isabela paused, lost in thought. _Why? So that she could kill me? Or send me to Par Vollen? No, if she'd wanted to hurt me, she's had hundreds of opportunities._

"A reward? Why?" she finally asked.

Aveline shrugged. "Because she's Hawke. She was worried about you, she wanted to see you, she had some idiot notion that there was something to salvage between you two… take your pick. Just because you stopped loving her, doesn't mean she stopped loving you."

"Did she... ever try to come after me?"

Aveline shook her head. "No, she didn't. She figured that if you'd felt even a fraction of what she did, you'd come back on your own. Poor, silly kid."

Isabela swallowed the lump in her throat.

"There _was_ a group that came after you. A small militia of Qunari supporters that wanted to see you punished for your crimes. They set off after you, and it was the strangest thing. We found their bodies littering the trail down the Wounded Coast. They hadn't even made it to Ostwick. Every single man and woman was burned to the core. We never did figure out who did it..." Aveline gave a small, knowing smile.

Isabela's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stammered. "I… didn't realise that… I thought she would've hated me."

Aveline put an irritated hand over her forehead. "Andraste's arse, you're a daft bitch. She's never hated you, she just hated what you did to her."

"I already apologised for stealing the damn tome. I even risked my own neck and came back with it, for Maker's sake! How was I supposed to know that insane Arishok would demand a duel?"

Aveline narrowed her eyes. "You really are a stupid whore. She wasn't angry at you because of the stealing, or the lying, or even the Arishok. She was angry at you for leaving. You saw what had become of her in that battle, and you just turned around and left. And after the way you spoke to her in that office, I can't blame her for turning into a bitter husk. You broke her heart, Isabela."

"I…"

"No, don't give me your excuses. Your smooth talking has never worked on me and it still doesn't. Because of you, she has become a different person, and not in a good way. She's angry, she's reckless, she's isolated. She's kept everyone who cared about her at arm's length for the last three years. Well... except for the lover who had her spread out on the Viscount's desk the other night, that is…"

Aveline watched Isabela's face closely as that information sunk in. The pirate flushed deeply, and Aveline smiled. "Jealous? I didn't think it was possible."

Isabela felt the jealousy tugging away at her like an impatient child. "When did this happen?" she finally ventured.

"At the anniversary banquet. The position she was in was _very_ creative. I didn't know Hawke was capable of such flexibility. I think even you would've been impressed."

Isabela felt sick, and wanted to punch Aveline's amused face. Hawke had denied Isabela a kiss, and gone straight to her lover.

"Well… good on her, she needed to get a good hammering. Hopefully she's lightened up a bit now" Isabela said defiantly.

Aveline crossed her arms. "You used to be a great liar, trollop, what happened?"

"Shut up, griffon lips!" Isabela frowned and turned to leave. She'd heard everything she needed to hear, and more than she wanted to.

"Stop, Isabela" Aveline called out. Isabela turned around stiffly. The smile was gone from Aveline's face, apparently she was finished playing her game. "Are you in love with her?"

Isabela dropped her gaze and felt her cheeks grow hot, but didn't respond.

Aveline looked her up and down. "Well, I think that's my answer. She should be back in Kirkwall at the end of next week. I suggest you be very sure that she is what you want. If you hurt her again, I'll kill you."

"What happened to 'leave her alone'?"

"If there's even a small chance that she can know happiness again, I'll take it, even if it means she shares her bed with a harlot like you."

Isabela paused at the door. "Thank you, big girl" she said quietly, before walking out.


	43. Chapter 43

**43**

Isabela crept into Hawke's bedroom, her powers of stealth still as adept as ever. Hawke was sleeping on her side, naked, her torso exposed. Isabela felt guilty for looking, and even worse when she caught sight of the huge scar that reached from the bottom of Hawke's breast, to underneath her shoulder blade. The Arishok's blade had cut deep.

Isabela knelt beside the bed, and touched the side of the mage's cheek. Hawke responded immediately, her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, throwing Isabela to the other side of the room and pinning her up against the wall with magic. It took a second for Hawke to focus on her.

"Shit, Isabela!" she cursed, lowering Isabela from the spell, "I didn't realise it was you! You frightened the Void out of me."

Isabela stood and dusted herself off. Hawke became aware of her nakedness, and pulled a sheet over herself.

"I have seen it all before, Hawke" Isabela said, moving towards the bed.

"That was then…" Hawke said curtly. "How did you even get in? I was sure I enchanted the locks tonight."

"You did. One of the windows in the attic was unlocked. _Very_ sloppy. Imagine if I was here to assassinate you?"

Hawke looked at her suspiciously. "What _are_ you here for? I thought you would've taken off for the horizon in your new boat."

Isabela took a seat on the bed, facing Hawke. "We need to talk. Well, I need to talk, and you need to listen. If I don't say this now, it will never be said."

"Well then, speak…" Hawke said impatiently.

Isabela swallowed hard, suddenly finding the speech she'd prepared had fled from her mind. "I... think I've fallen for you, Hawke…"

Hawke paused for a moment, and then let out a bitter laugh. "What is this? What do you want now?"

Isabela shook her head. "Nothing. I… have feelings for you. And I think that you have feelings for me."

Hawke shook her head. "No. You don't get to come in here and say that. You told me yourself, _love isn't for you._ I was _nothing_ to you, remember? It was always about what you could get out of me."

"That's not true, Hawke. You were… special to me. You still are. I said those things because I thought it would make it easier."

"Easier?! Ha! You absolutely destroyed me. Did you know that? Did you even care? Just get away from me, Isabela, you're poison."

Isabela reached out , but Hawke slapped her away. Her hand stung from the impact, but she refused to give up. This was her last chance. "Hawke, you told me once, that you would wait for me to be ready… Well, I am ready. For this. You and I. I'm really ready."

Hawke looked at her, confusion colouring every feature. "You can't be serious? I said that more than four years ago. You really expected me to sit around and wait patiently, while you ran off and fucked half of Thedas? Get out of my house."

"No, I'm not leaving. Not until you admit that you still care for me."

"Admit it? I never denied it! And I lost you because of it. The way I felt for you… it was insanity, and I've never been able to shake it. Does that make you happy? Is your ego boosted by that? Because if we're done, then you need to get the fuck out."

"No, we're not done…" Isabela said, moving forward.

Hawke held her ground, glaring at Isabela defiantly. "Don't touch me, Isabela." There was anger in her eyes, but something else. Desire.

Isabela got close and Hawke pushed her away. Isabela leaned in again. "Please… just let me kiss you. If you want me to leave after that, I will."

She knew there were a dozen different ways that Hawke could kill her without even laying a hand on her, but she wasn't afraid of her. Hawke loved her, and Isabela was determined to remind her of it.

Isabela took Hawke's face into her hands and gently drew her in. Their lips met softly, and Hawke's body tensed at the sensation, but her mouth stayed relaxed and supple as she let Isabela kiss her. Isabela glided her tongue across Hawke's bottom lip and into her mouth. Hawke began to respond, kissing Isabela back and running her hands through her thick hair.

Isabela guided Hawke back onto the bed and lay beside her, keeping their mouths connected so that Hawke could offer no protest. She pulled the sheet down and exposed Hawke's body, and she ran her hands over the smooth skin of the mage's breasts, still perfect handfuls.

Hawke's hands traveled over the long lost curves of Isabela's body. Isabela climbed on top of Hawke and started her downward descent. She kissed both of Hawke's breasts, producing heavy breathing and prickled skin as she took the mage's nipple into her mouth. Isabela continued her trail down Hawke's stomach watching in the pale moonlight as the mage began to writhe with pleasure.

When she got between Hawke's thighs, the mage was already shaking with anticipation. Isabela started off slow, using her lips and tongue to lick and stroke in a way that produced various soft moans and gasps from her partner. In all the years apart, she'd never forgotten the sweet, soapy taste of Hawke's flesh, and experiencing it again felt like coming home.

She used her fingers to stimulate Hawke's inner depths, working in harmony with her mouth. As she settled into a rhythm, Hawke's body jolted at every twirl of Isabela's tongue and plunge of her fingers. Isabela used the trick with her lip stud, and Hawke bucked so wildly that Isabela had to pin her hips down. As Hawke reached her crescendo, she called out Isabela's name and gripped the sheets so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Hawke's body slowly relaxed as Isabela finished off with a few light kisses. She lay back down next to Hawke, who now had her hands over her face.

"Are you okay?" Isabela ventured into the stony silence.

"No, I'm not. I don't know why I keep letting this happen. I must be a masochist." She sat up and put her back to Isabela. "I'll save you the trouble of telling me that you don't want to stay. Just give me a moment to get dressed and I'll walk you home."

"I… want to stay, Hawke."

Hawke looked over her shoulder at Isabela. "You want to stay? Here? The whole night… with me?"

Isabela sat up and wrapped her arms around Hawke's waist, resting her chin on Hawke's shoulder. "Yes. If you'll let me?"

* * *

**HAWKE**

Hawke watched over Isabela as she finally fell asleep. If she hadn't seen it for herself, she'd hardly believe that the woman slept at all.

Watching her rest was unnatural, like sitting in the eye of a storm. She was a force of nature; strong, destructive and completely unpredictable. You could either get out of her way, or be caught in the chaos. And although Hawke loved her, she had simply grown too tired to chase the wind.

Hawke wrapped her arms around Isabela's naked waist and breathed in the scent of the woman. This was probably the only time she would ever get to sleep side by side with somebody she loved.

The moonlight provided the perfect clarity. Hawke was as solid and enduring as the mountains, while Isabela was as wild and fluid as the ocean itself. Hawke had been wrong to try to tame her all those years ago, she could see that now. Asking Isabela to stay in one place was like asking the sun not to rise, or the rain not to fall.

Hawke lay her head down, allowing sleep to take her. Isabela would be gone by the time she awoke, and as Hawke started to drift off, she promised herself that she would be okay. The world would continue to spin, and she still had so many things left to do.


	44. Chapter 44

**44**

Isabela woke up in a panic. This was not her room, her knives were out of reach, she was naked, and there was somebody else in the bed with her. Isabela smelled the familiar scent of Hawke's hair, and felt a pair of full breasts pushed up against her bare back, and it all came flooding back to her in a happy rush.

Hawke responded to Isabela's stirring, and held her tighter, her arm resting on Isabela's waist and circling around her stomach. Hawke's eyes were still puffy from sleep as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Hello. I didn't expect you to still be here. I never thought in an entire age that I would get to sleep beside you."

The mid-afternoon sun came streaming in through the window. Hawke hadn't wanted to talk, so they'd spent their time on other things, staying awake together until the early hours of the morning. They must have slept half the day away.

"Well, last night _was_ pretty exhausting…" Isabela said with a smile.

Hawke rolled onto her back. "Yes, it was. Are you hungry? I'll get dressed and get you a bowl of stew before you leave."

"You… want me to leave?" Isabela asked, unsuccessfully hiding the hurt in her voice.

Hawke looked over at her in confusion. "Yes. I mean, no. I just assumed… wait. What are you saying?"

Isabela shifted in place, trying to think of how to answer. What did she want to say? "I just thought that we could talk first?"

"If you'd like. What do you want to talk about?"

Isabela turned to face Hawke. _Maker, she's beautiful_… "About us. About what last night meant?"

Hawke shrugged nonchalantly. "There is no us, and last night didn't mean anything. You came over to sweet talk your way into my bed, you succeeded, and now you're done with me once again. Don't worry, I'm a big girl now, I can handle it."

Isabela felt her heart start pounding. Was this what she had done to Hawke? Before she'd left, Hawke had been as warm and as inviting as the sun. It had been a joy to bathe in her glow, even for just a short while. Now, she was as cold and unmoving as ice.

"I didn't just come here for sex, Hawke. I meant what I said to you, and I'm not done with you. If you're not done with me, I mean…"

Hawke eyed her off curiously. "I… didn't expect you to say that. I'm not really sure how to react. I thought that you didn't want to be tied down?"

Isabela chuckled. "We both know I've let you tie me down many times."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Still deflecting with lewd jokes, I see…"

Isabela gave Hawke a small shove. "Still a prude with no sense of humour, I see…"

Hawke laughed softly, but it was a sad sound. "Exactly. So what do you want with me then? I'm hardly your type."

Isabela touched Hawke's face. "You're exactly my type. You're… _you_. I can do this Hawke. I can be a better person, the type of person who knows right from wrong, like you do. I'm ready to change, to be somebody that you would be proud to… be with."

Hawke exhaled loudly. "Maker's breath, is that what you thought I wanted? No wonder you're so scared of relationships... I didn't want you to change, I was never ashamed of you. I would've claimed you in front of all of Thedas if you'd have let me. I just wanted you to want me, the same way that I wanted you."

Isabela shook her head. "No, that's not good enough. I don't want to be the person that accepts a demon's offer and stabs you, or abandons you to fight the Qunari, or sells you out for a ship. I want to have your back, the way you've always had mine."

Hawke swallowed hard. "I… don't think it would work, Isabela. I'm not that naïve 22 year old who's going to turn a blind eye while you get gang banged by half the patrons at the Hanged Man. I'd rather be alone than have to share somebody again."

"I never had a gang bang in the Ha - "

"You're sort of missing my point, Isabela. I'm not content with only having a small piece of somebody. That's why you ended it with me, remember? I'm probably better off alone now anyway. My life is… very complicated."

"I can do complicated, Hawke. And it won't be a small piece of me. I'm talking about you and me, really giving it a try. I was a coward the last time, I got scared and I ran away. It's not going to happen again. I promise."

Hawke gave a bitter smile. "Scared, yes, _that_ I understand. The thought of you and I… it terrifies me now. I just don't think I can do it to myself again."

Isabela sighed, feeling the weight of disappointment fall on her chest. "I understand. I had no right to expect you to feel the same way. I know you've got somebody else, anyway…"

Hawke propped herself up, and wiped away the tear from Isabela's cheek that she didn't even realise she'd spilled. "It's not about that. There's nobody else, that's been over for a little while. It's just... _me_. I'm a different person now, and this isn't the right time for me to be involved with anyone."

"I'm just asking for one chance Hawke. I won't let you down ever again."

Hawke paused for a long time, lost in her thoughts. Isabela braced herself for the rejection. This had been a mistake. Asking for another chance was asking too much.

Then, there were suddenly lips on top of hers, and hands running their way through her loose hair. The contact broke, and she looked up at Hawke in confusion. Hawke wrapped an arm around Isabela's waist, and kissed her cheek.

"I am scared, but I'm not a coward. I will find a way to be who you need me to be, if you're serious?"

Isabela nodded wordlessly and brought her lips back to Hawke's.


	45. Chapter 45

**45**

"I think they're clean, Hawke…" Isabela said, looking down at her soaped up breasts.

"I think they were clean about five minutes ago…" Hawke said with an impish smile, as she rubbed Isabela's slippery chest.

Hawke leaned in for a kiss, and then splashed some water lightly over Isabela, washing the suds away.

Hawke sat back in her enormous bathtub and cocked her head. "I just can't believe you're here. I never thought I could be this… happy."

Isabela smiled. She hadn't left the Hawke Estate for over a week. Actually, she'd barely left Hawke's bedroom in that time, except for meals and their evening bath. They slept, ate, talked and made love, all within those four walls. Hawke seemed happier, lighter. Isabela saw more and more glimpses of the old Hawke shining through.

"I'd better go back to the Hanged Man today, to get some clean clothes" Isabela said.

"You know you can always borrow my clothes and save yourself the walk."

"Somehow, I don't think that we're the same clothes size, sweet thing" she said, looking pointedly at Hawke's breasts.

Hawke looked down and self consciously covered the scar under her right breast. "Hmm… you're probably right. Well, I won't complain if you just want to walk around naked…"

Isabela reached out and gently removed Hawke's hand. "Don't hide your scars from me."

Hawke looked down at her chest. "Why not? They're ugly."

Isabela traced the line of the chest scar with her thumb, and brought her lips up to the scar on Hawke's nose for a quick kiss. "They are _not_ ugly, they're sexy."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "You have some curious standards."

Isabela gave Hawke a kick in the leg, and then laid back, wincing as the hot water hit the fresh scratches on her shoulders.

Hawke leaned forward. "Did I hurt you? Turn around and I'll heal you. I didn't mean it, it was just when you did that thing last night…"

Isabela laughed. "No no no, get away from me with your magical hands. Consider it proof that I can still make the great Champion of Kirkwall squeal."

Hawke gave her another splash. "I seem to recall that you were the one that woke Sandal up."

Isabela chuckled. "Let's call it a team effort. Poor bugger, we probably scared him."

"At least Bodahn was clever enough to intercept him before he walked into our room. If the boy had seen what you were doing, I think he would've been ruined."

"Hmm… I'm surprised he wasn't used to it. Or was your gift-giving friend not as vocal as me?"

Hawke looked deeply uncomfortable, but held Isabela's gaze. "Nobody's as vocal as you. And… in any case, we didn't get many opportunities to use my bed. It was… complicated."

"So I've heard. I hope the Viscount's desk didn't bruise your back. You've got such sensitive skin."

Hawke's eyes widened. "Fucking Aveline…"

"So it's true then. I'm actually pretty impressed, Hawke. Did you fall in love this time?"

Hawke dropped her gaze. "I… don't know. Maybe. He is… a wonderful man."

"A _he_, was it? That's interesting…"

Hawke leaned in and started kissing Isabela's neck. "You know you're the only woman for me, Isabela."

"Of course I am. So, why didn't you marry him if he was so wonderful?"

Hawke sat back, her moment of lust temporarily forgotten. "He was there for me during a terrible time in my life, but marriage... was not an option. He is who he is, and I am who I am. It never could've worked out."

"And _who_ is he?"

Hawke crinkled her nose. "I forgot that you get jealous. I'm putting an end to this conversation."

"I don't get _jealous_ Hawke, I'm just interested…"

Hawke laughed. "Oh, of course you don't get jealous, how silly of me. I don't either. I was actually hoping to get the full list of names and physical descriptions of each and every conquest you had while you were away."

"I didn't get many names Hawke..."

Hawke rubbed her forehead. "Sarcasm, Bela, ever heard of it? We're not talking about this topic. We're both here now, let us focus on that."

Hawke lay back and wet her hair, starting her daily ritual of washing it. Isabela watched with fascination. She'd never known anyone with such an obsession with cleanliness. No wonder she always smelled and tasted so good.

Hawke washed the soap off her head and sat up, a new look of purpose on her face. "I've been thinking…" she announced, "You have Castillion's ship now. And you have… me. And I have coin. Would you like to go away together? We can hire a crew and sail away from Kirkwall, to wherever you'd like."

"Are you serious?" Isabela asked, surprise tempering her tone.

Hawke nodded. "I'm always serious, remember? I haven't waited five years to get you, just so that I can turn you into a bored Hightown housewife. You need to be on the ocean, and I need to be with you."

Isabela's heart went into a flurry of excitement. Her and Hawke out on the high seas. She'd never even dared to imagine it. "Are you sure, Hawke? I mean, it would be a smuggling vessel…"

Hawke shifted position, her face lost in thought. "I'm… okay with that. As long as it's not slaves?"

Isabela frowned. "As if I'd get myself into that again! Remember how this entire Castillion mess started?"

Hawke nodded. "Okay then. A smuggling vessel. I can live with that."

"Think carefully, Lady Hawke. A life out at sea isn't easy. There are no porcelain tubs for you to bathe in twice a day."

"I'll go swimming then."

Isabela paused. "Lothering is landlocked. How did you learn to swim?"

"I can't swim. My beautiful girlfriend is going to teach me how to."

Isabela cocked her head and inclined an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?"

A small look of panic touched Hawke's features. "I'm sorry. That just slipped out. That was too soon, wasn't it?"

Isabela stroked Hawke's leg reassuringly. "No, it wasn't too soon. I… liked it."

Hawke smiled. "Good. Then let's do it. We have nothing tying us here, and I've always wanted to see more of the world. Plus, I am going to need to get away from the Knight-Commander very, _very_ soon."

Isabela couldn't argue the logic. The Knight-Commander ran one of the strictest Templar Orders in Thedas. The fact that the most infamous apostate in Kirkwall's history was still allowed her freedom was a miracle in itself. Hawke had never been a part of a Circle, or passed a Harrowing, or received formal training. One day, Meredith would turn on Hawke, and if she didn't execute her on the spot, she would force her into The Circle of Magi.

"Yes! I'm game. Where should we sail to first? Actually, we should probably stop by Orlais, and I'll try and pay the Crows their 50 sovereigns back…"

Hawke cleared her throat. "You needn't worry about that. The Crows have been… neutralised…"

Isabela frowned suspiciously. "How so?"

"I… went for a little trip across borders, right after Castillion was killed. I met with your _friend_ Nuncio, and it's all been resolved. You're free."

Isabela looked at her lover's face. _Still can't tell a lie to save her life, I see_. "_How_ was it resolved?"

Hawke shifted uncomfortably. "Umm… I implored… violent methods."

"Balls… If you've killed Nuncio, there will be reprisals," Isabela murmured.

Hawke shook her head. "I'm not a fool. I took out the entire Orlesian branch. I burned their warehouse and office to the ground. There's no record of you, or your failed hit. They won't come after you, they don't even know who you are."

Isabela sat back. "You took out an entire guild of assassins? Did you rally an army while I wasn't looking?"

Hawke laughed. "No army necessary. It wasn't very hard. I was a little disappointed, actually."

Isabela looked at her lover in amazement. "You didn't have to do that Hawke. I could've handled it."

Hawke leaned forward and kissed the tip of Isabela's nose. "I know you could've. But I made you a promise, and I wasn't going to break it. Can we please stop talking about it now?"

Isabela let her hands travel under the water. "Yes, we can stop talking. It seems I owe you a reward, anyway."


	46. Chapter 46

**46**

**One month later**

It had taken them most of a week, but they'd gathered a crew of four dozen sailors. Isabela had picked a First Mate from among them, a ruthless Antivan named Dario, that she'd worked with two years prior. He was as skilled with a sword as he was with a ship, and would make a great right hand.

They had ordered a month's worth of food to be loaded onto the ship, and Isabela shuddered to think how much coin Hawke had spent on new clothes and weapons for them both. Everything was organised for them to set sail at the end of the week.

They slowly trudged through the Hightown market, walking shoulder to shoulder. Isabela reached across slightly, gathering Hawke's hand into her own, and watched Hawke's reaction out of the corner of her eye. The mage looked down in surprise, then smiled to herself.

Isabela stopped in her tracks. "You go on ahead, I want to have a quick look at the blade stall."

Hawke hesitated. "I don't mind waiting for you."

Isabela let go of Hawke's hand, and put her hands on her hips. "And here I thought you had promised to cook me dinner?"

Hawke chuckled, holding the satchel of fresh ingredients in her hand. "Very well, mademoiselle. Don't be too long."

Isabela pulled Hawke in for a quick kiss, before the mage strolled off in the direction of her house. Isabela pretended to browse the weapon stand until Hawke was out of sight, then she turned and headed to her real destination.

* * *

They lay side by side in bed, with Hawke resting her head in the nook between Isabela's arm and chest. "I think I'll be a terrible sailor. I'm not as strong as you, and my hands are too soft to pull ropes all day. At least I learned that wind spell, so I won't be completely useless."

Isabela perked up. "I forgot about that. You'll be the most popular person on the ship. We'll be unrivaled for speed, and we can outrun any storm. Good thinking. Where would you like to go first?"

Hawke paused. "I'll leave that up to you. You've seen it all, you know the best places. Except... maybe we should avoid Orlais, for a little while?"

Isabela thought for a moment. "Rivain, I think. I'd like you to see my homeland."

Hawke smiled. "I'd like that too. I'm looking forward to this."

"So am I, sweet thing. Being out on the open ocean, there's nothing like it."

Hawke smiled and repositioned her head on Isabela's shoulder. The women slipped into a comfortable silence, breathing steadily in sync with each other. Isabela felt her heartbeat quicken. Now would be the perfect time to give Hawke her gift. She sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, digging into the bottom of her boot where she'd hidden the parcel.

"Hawke, I got something for you today. Well, something for us… really…"

Hawke cocked her head, perplexed by Isabela's sudden switch in behaviour. Isabela handed over the parcel hurriedly, feeling her palms go clammy.

Hawke opened it slowly, and her eyes lit up when she pulled out the gold bracelets. "Isabela…" she said breathily.

She held them both up to examine them, taking in the sight of the engraved charms. She looked at Isabela with such warmth in her eyes that Isabela wished that she'd bought her gifts every single day.

Isabela realised that she needed to speak now. "Uh… this one's for you. It's enchanted with lyrium. The other one is for me, and it's enchanted with a dexterity spell. They're both enchanted with the same protection spell. I… thought that… ah… balls… I'm not good with this stuff."

Hawke held her wrist out, gesturing for Isabela to clip the bracelet on for her. Isabela complied, angry at herself for how clumsy her shaking hands were.

"You had them both engraved with _'H & I'_…" Hawke said quietly.

Isabela's tongue tied in knots, and she suddenly understood how Merrill felt most of the time. "I… er… yes, I did. I wanted… umm… a symbol, or something... Ugh. I wanted something to show the world that I am yours, and you are mine."

Hawke leaned in and kissed Isabela softly. "What a lovely gesture. Thank you, Isabela. I love… them. They're beautiful."

Isabela felt relieved that Hawke had accepted the gift so graciously. She didn't even tease Isabela for her less than smooth delivery. Hawke leaned forwards and clipped Isabela's bracelet on. They lay down side by side in their matching bracelets, and Isabela felt her heart rate slow.

Hawke giggled quietly. "I got you a gift as well, but I'm afraid it's going to pale in comparison to this."

Isabela turned in Hawke's direction. "Mmm? Try me."

Hawke rolled on top of her and pinned her wrists down above her head, and started kissing her neck. "You're going to need to trust me."

"I do."

"Good" Hawke said as she climbed off the bed and went rifling through her drawers. She pulled out a series of belts and sashes, tying the thickest one over Isabela's eyes.

"I like where this is going…" Isabela murmured as Hawke secured her wrists and ankles to the four posts of her bed.

Hawke gave Isabela a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."

Isabela chuckled to herself as she heard Hawke's uneven footfalls go down the staircase. Hawke was many things, but stealthy? Not one of them.

Hawke returned a moment later, and the bolt of her bedroom door locking behind her sounded louder to Isabela in her blinded state. Hawke crawled onto the bed and tenderly kissed Isabela, giving only the gentlest hint of a tongue. Isabela moaned softly at the tingling sensation. Hawke sat up for a moment, before leaning back over and kissing Isabela again. This time, she pushed something into Isabela's mouth with her tongue, and Isabela swallowed it, taking in the flavour.

"No, you didn't?! You little tease!" she said excitedly.

"Mmmhmm, I did" Hawke whispered in her ear.

"How did you know?" Isabela asked, her heart rate starting to climb.

Hawke giggled. "You talk _a lot_ during sex, Isabela."

"Oh, my sweet girl, the things I am going to teach you to do with this whipped cream…"

Hawke chuckled. "I don't think lessons will be necessary, Bela. You seem to be the one restrained to a bed, and I know exactly what I'm going to do to you."

"Oh, Hawke. I'm so proud of you, I'm getting all misty eyed! I... Oh... Mmm... Ohhh my..."


	47. Chapter 47

**47**_  
_

"To Hawke and Rivaini!" Varric announced as he lifted his pint of mead in the air.

"Hear hear!" Isabela said with a smile as she downed her sixth whiskey of the night.

Hawke took a small sip of her Nevarran wine as she perched on Isabela's lap, while Aveline, Donnic, Merrill, Fenris and Anders all raised their glasses.

"I'm going to miss you both" Merrill said quietly, her big, sad eyes flicking between Hawke and Isabela.

"Don't be sad, Merrill, we'll be back to visit" Hawke said softly.

Merrill sighed. "It won't be the same. Will you write to me? Do pirates write letters?"

Hawke giggled and gave Isabela's knee a squeeze.

"Badly. Hook hands make for terrible penmanship, Kitten" Isabela answered with a smirk.

Aveline caught Isabela's eye from across the table. "Although I can think of better things for someone of Hawke's disposition to be doing than slumming it on a pirate ship, I'm glad to see you haven't wasted your second chance, whore."

"_Aveline_…" Hawke chided.

Isabela gave the Guard-Captain a smug smile. "Ooh, it looks like I'm untouchable now, ball-crusher. Too bad, I bet you had some great last minute material to use."

"_Ah-hem_" Hawke said pointedly, "on _my_ last night in Kirkwall, my girlfriend and best friend are going to get along. No personal digs about promiscuity or masculinity. Is everybody clear on the rules?"

Isabela chuckled as Aveline gave her a dark stare across the table.

"Well, I can control myself Hawke, I can't speak for that tramp and her loose lips though. She's always had a problem keeping them closed… both sets!"

"Aveline!"

Aveline chuckled with mirth. "Okay, okay. Sorry, that was the last one."

Isabela gave Hawke a small smack on the thigh. "I'm getting another round. Can I interest you in a second wine, precious?"

Hawke shook her head. "No thank you. And you'd better not get too drunk. I don't want to get stuck carrying you home."

"Are you saying I'm getting fat? I am reaching that age, aren't I? Is it my arse?"

Hawke chuckled and nuzzled Isabela's neck. "Your arse is divine, as is the rest of you, _mi amado_."

"Maker, you really know the way into my undergarments, don't you, Hawke? When did you learn how to speak Antivan?"

Hawke gave her a cheeky smile. "Dario might've taught me a few lines to woo you with."

Isabela leaned in and kissed Hawke's lips. "Sometimes you are so sweet, I could eat you for dessert."

"Feel free" Hawke said with a small wink.

Isabela headed to the bar, and had Varric pop up beside her.

"So, the Rivaini is settling down. I never thought I'd see the day" he said with a smug smile.

"If your version of settling down is taking to the high seas for adventure with a band of cut throat smugglers and a pretty little witch in my bed, then yes, consider me settled!"

His eyes twinkled as he looked up to her. "Don't make a mess of it, Rivaini. I've never seen either of you this happy."

She shook her head. "I'm not going to mess it up, Varric. I'm not letting her go unless she cuts both of my hands off."

He chuckled. "Good to hear. We both know she's completely useless with a blade, so I like your chances."

They returned to the table with drinks in hand, to find Hawke and Anders missing.

"The abomination dragged Hawke upstairs rather begrudgingly. I'm sure she'd appreciate your interference" Fenris grumbled quietly.

Isabela downed her two whiskeys, and headed up the stairs. The door to Varric's room was slightly ajar, and she could hear Hawke and Anders talking in hushed whispers.

"- you promised."

"Hawke, we need to work this out. You owe it to me."

"You can't be serious, Anders, I've given you the last three years of my life. I don't owe you anything. Tomorrow, I'm leaving with Isabela, and that's that. I can't do this with you anymore."

"You can sail off into the sunset with her tomorrow, but please, just give me tonight. That's all I ask."

"Ugh, fine. But keep it quiet. Isabela can never know about this. I'll sneak out when she's passed out from all that whiskey. I don't want her to know anything about this part of my life. The last few years are none of her concern."

Anders scoffed quietly. "As if she has any right to judge you and I, based on her past actions."

Hawke gave a frustrated sigh. "She's never pretended to be a paragon of honour and virtue. But she's trying, and I'm happy with her. Don't take that away from me. Please?"

"You and her... I just don't get it. Nearly every bachelor in the Free Marches has proposed to you at least once. You could've had anyone. And yet you settle for her? She's so beneath you, Hawke."

There was the sound of a glass being shattered, and then Hawke's voice, louder this time. "I'll come and meet you tonight. We've gone too far not to see this through together. But if you ever speak badly about Isabela in my presence again, Justice won't be able to save you from me. Are we clear?"

"I just worry for you, Hawke. I've seen the scars she left you with, and I'm not just talking about the ones on your body. She is going to break your heart again. There is no room in that woman for love."

"You let me worry about my heart, Anders."

Isabela sensed the end of the conversation coming, and she hastened down the stairs.

_Hawke… and Anders?! That's who her lover was? Hawke is going to run out on me tonight, to sleep with Anders? _She felt sick. The closest thing to a relationship she'd ever been in was her marriage, and when her husband had taken another woman to bed, Isabela had felt relieved to have a reprieve from his attentions. This was different. She looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, and swallowed back her anger. _I've put Hawke through a lot of bollocks. If this is what she needs to do to get closure, then I'll let her get it out of her system. It's just sex, after all..._

Hawke arrived back at the table a moment later, looking particularly flustered. She sat beside Isabela and put a hand on her thigh. "Can I buy you another drink, Bela?"

Isabela stiffened. "Go for it. I'm going to need a few."

* * *

Hawke opened the front door to her mansion, and hoisted Isabela through. Isabela trudged along, leaning her weight on her lover. After what felt like an hour, Hawke finally got her up the stairs and threw her down on the bed.

"I hope you don't get sea sick, Bela, because this hangover is going to be more than enough for you to contend with" Hawke murmured as she slid Isabela's boots off.

"You know I'm open, sexshually, right?" Isabela slurred as Hawke started undoing her tunic.

Hawke chuckled softly in dark. "Yes, I had picked up on that."

"I know that you normally like… men. Pee-nish, speshifically."

Hawke sniggered. "I've heard you have quite a fondness for _penishes_ yourself…"

"Shtop laughing, Haaaawke. I'm being ser - seriouss. You don't have to mish out on that. Pee-nish, I mean. If you ever wan-na have a man again, we can work someshing out…"

Hawke stopped giggling, and pulled Isabela's tunic off. She lay beside Isabela on the bed, and gently undid her head scarf. "That's very thoughtful of you, Bela, but you know you're all that I want."

Isabela lunged on top of Hawke, their mouths colliding roughly as Isabela tasted the wine on Hawke's tongue. Hawke broke away from the kiss, and turned her face away.

"Don't, Bela. I don't feel right having sex with you when you're this drunk."

"Oh, of courshe. You need-a save your eneeergy, after all."

Hawke propped herself up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" Isabela rolled over angrily.

She felt a soft hand stroke its way up and down her back. "Get some sleep, pretty girl, we have a big day tomorrow."

Isabela felt the prickling of tears as she closed her eyes.


	48. Chapter 48

**48**

Isabela woke up to an empty bed. She dressed quickly, and slid down the bannister. Hawke was at her writing desk at the bottom of the stairs, with a few cases packed by the fireplace.

"You're up early. Didn't sleep well, I take it?" Isabela asked coldly, eyeing Hawke off for any signs of her misdeed.

Hawke looked up at her and smiled. "Not everybody had a hangover to sleep off, my dear."

Isabela descended the staircase sulkily. She'd only gotten so drunk the night before because she knew Hawke intended to run off and cheat on her.

"What are you writing?" she pressed, as she took a peek over Hawke's shoulder. She breathed in the woman's scent. She didn't smell like she'd been with a man. She smelled like a mixture between herself and Isabela.

Hawke finished off the paper with a signature, her bracelet sparkling on her wrist. Isabela felt herself instantly soften at the sight of it.

"It's a legal directive. I'm gifting the estate to Aveline and Donnic. It just seems wasteful to have this huge house, sitting here empty."

"That's a generous gift Hawke, are you sure?"

Hawke nodded. "Aveline's been a sister to me. I've never had a truer friend. They're going to need the space soon, and if I don't give it to her, my prick of a brother will make a claim."

Isabela laughed. "So you won't be losing any sleep about missing Carver while we're at sea? You know, that offer I made you both the first time I met you still stands. It might improve the relationship?"

Hawke got a thoughtful look on her face, searching for the memory. A look of realisation hit her. "Suggest bringing my brother into our bed once more, and there will be no more whipped cream in your future…"

Isabela closed her mouth immediately.

Hawke pressed her seal into the wax of the envelope and blew on it to dry, then stood, facing Isabela. Isabela studied Hawke's face. There was no guilt, no shame, no hint of a lie. _Maybe she didn't go through with it?_ Isabela thought hopefully, wondering when she became so possessive.

"I need to drop this off at the Viscount's office, then I've got some last minute issues to deal with at the Gallows. Why don't you go to the tavern and pack the last of your things, and I'll meet you at the ship?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "More umpiring between Orsino and Meredith? I wish they'd just get a room. I mean, it's always helped us settle our differences. Imagine the amount of frustration they could work off in one hour in bed."

Hawke covered her eyes. "Ugh, thanks for that. I'll not sleep for a week courtesy of that image."

"Don't worry, I can think of other ways to relax you…" Isabela whispered, putting one hand on Hawke's lower back and bringing her in close, while the other hand traced a line up her thigh. Whatever Hawke's transgression had been, she intended to forgive it. It was only fair, Hawke had forgiven far more.

Hawke spun out of the embrace. "As much as I would love to be _relaxed_ right now, we both have a lot to do. The sooner we finish our business, the sooner we can board the ship."

Isabela leaned in and gently nipped at Hawke's lower lip, dragging her teeth across the soft flesh. "You're right. We'd better save ourselves. I'll be giving you your first case of sea legs tonight. Don't forget, while we're on the ship, you're under my command. And I will be working you _hard_."

Hawke gave Isabela a long kiss, running her hands all over the pirate's body, "As long as I'm the only one you're working, I'm fine with that. Now, get going, Captain. We're still on dry land, and I have things to do." She gave Isabela a firm smack on the rear, and headed out the door.

* * *

Isabela had just finished packing her case, when the walls of the tavern rumbled, and she heard the explosion. She grabbed her things and found Varric.

"Andraste's dimpled butt-cheeks, what was that?!" Varric exclaimed, his eyes wide with worry.

Isabela felt panicked. "You don't think the Qunari have come back, do you?"

"Great ancestors, I hope not… "

"Varric, go to the Alienage. Kitten will be scared. Stay with her until I can figure out what's going on. I need to find Hawke."

The two friends shared a look, before heading off in opposite directions. Isabela fought against the crowd of people that were streaming into Lowtown from the Hightown bridge. Amidst the chaos, she could see the distinctive orange hair of Aveline near the Viscount's Way. She ran towards her.

The Captain of the Guard was with Hawke, who was on the ground, cradling the bloodied body of a young girl in Circle robes.

"Hawke?" Isabela asked gently.

"Why would he bring them? Why bring children to confront the Knight-Commander? This is a nightmare..." she muttered to herself.

Isabela raised her eyes to Aveline in confusion.

Aveline responded. "That mad fool Anders has started a war. He went on some rant about mage's rights, then he blew up the sodding Chantry. The Knight-Commander has invoked the Right of Annulment, and the templars are killing every mage in Kirkwall. I only just got Hawke away in time, but they're after her."

"Anders did what?! Where is he?" Isabela demanded looking around.

Hawke looked up for the first time, and held out a blood stained hand. "I made him the martyr that he always wanted to be."

"Shit, Hawke, we need to get you out of here. Let's go to the ship now!" Isabela said, grabbing Hawke's hand and pulling.

Hawke resisted, staying on the ground. "No, Bela. I'm not running away. I just had a 12 year old girl die in my arms. Most of Kirkwall's Circle is made up of apprentices - _children_. I won't leave them."

Isabela looked desperately towards Aveline, who tried her hand at persuasion. "Hawke, I can't protect you forever, the templars are coming for you. You can't help anybody if you're dead."

Hawke gently lay the child's body down, and stood. "I don't want you to protect me, Aveline. You've built a life for yourself in Kirkwall, a good life. I won't ask you to compromise it by fighting templars for me. Go to Lowtown. Keep the civilians safe."

Aveline looked stricken. "Hawke, no. My place is with you."

Hawke shook her head. "No, it's not. Your place is defending innocent people. That's not me. Please, go. You've been my dearest friend, Aveline, but this is not your mess."

Aveline's jaw clenched, signalling her defiance. Hawke laid a tender hand upon her armoured belly. "Aveline… think of the baby. Get out of here."

The women shared a look, and Aveline wrapped Hawke up in an embrace. Without another word, Aveline ran in the direction of Lowtown, leaving Isabela and Hawke alone.

"Umm… what? The big girl is having a baby? I was starting to think she didn't have the required parts…"

Hawke gave a small nod. "It's still early, but yes, they're having a baby. And I'll be damned if one more innocent is hurt because of me."

"No innocents are getting hurt because of you, Hawke. I'm getting you out of here, now."

"No. This is my fault…" Hawke hissed.

Isabela grabbed her hand. "No it's not, Anders did this. Please, can we talk about it on the ship? We need to go."

Hawke shook her head. "You're not listening. I did this. The explosion. I planned it, I gathered the ingredients, I augmented the spell. We've been working on it together for a year. But this is… wrong…"

Isabela searched Hawke's face. "I need you to explain this to me, Hawke. I don't believe that you would do this."

Hawke hung her head. "Since you left, I've been working in the mage underworld. I've been helping other mages escape, aiding their families, and killing templars. Lots of them. The explosion was supposed to take place in Templar Hall. We wanted to take out Meredith, and as many of her men as possible. With the Order crippled, the Circle could have risen up and escaped."

"Then you're innocent. The Chantry was destroyed, not Templar Hall."

"I'm not innocent, I'm just fucking gullible. Anders betrayed me. He never wanted to free the Kirkwall Circle, he wanted to start a world war. After what he's done, there will never be peace between mages and templars. I was fooled by him, and now the blood of Kirkwall's mages is on my hands…"

"I didn't think you even liked Anders? Why would you let him talk you into all of this?"

Hawke looked down at the ground, fiddling with her fingers "Look at what my life was, Isabela. I had no family, no job, nothing... Anders gave me a purpose. I don't expect you to understand, but I needed it."

Isabela searched the face of her lover. "I... do understand. I have a purpose now, too. I have you."

Hawke nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact so that Isabela wouldn't see the tears brimming in her eyes.

Isabela needed a moment to take it all in, glancing at Hawke's blood stained hand. "So… you stabbed him for betraying you?"

Hawke closed her eyes. "I cut his throat. Because I was angry. He broke every promise he made to me. Hundreds of our people will die today, because of him. This wasn't what I agreed to, what I've spent the last few years of my life working to achieve."

A thought struck Isabela. "You would've bombed Templar Hall, even though your brother would've been in there?"

Hawke met her eyes. "Anders promised me that he would give me time. Time for you and I to get away, and time for me to send word to my friends in the Order. They probably wouldn't have listened, but it was worth any sacrifice. You don't understand what it's been like since the Viscount died. I would have done _anything_ to rid Kirkwall of Meredith's rule. I'm sorry if that sounds cold."

Isabela paused for a moment, looking Hawke up and down. It suddenly clicked in her mind. "You… weren't having an affair with Anders while I was gone, and you didn't sneak out to have sex with him last night, did you? You were seeing him about this…"

Hawke's face shot up and she screwed her nose up. "_An affair?_ _Sex_? _With Anders?_ Holy Maker, no! Never! Why would you even think that?"

"I overheard some of your conversation at the tavern. I just assumed…"

Hawke touched Isabela's face. "That's why you were acting so strange at home. I would never do that to you, I love… being with you. I just needed to change the plans a bit. When we originally worked on this, you weren't in the picture."

Isabela nodded slowly. "So... What was the plan, if I hadn't have come back? If there was no ship. What was your escape route?"

Hawke shifted uncomfortably, but held the gaze. "I would have fought the templars until the last mage had evacuated the Gallows. I... imagine I would have died in the effort."

Isabela rubbed her face, overcome by emotion. "I'm so glad I came back, Hawke. I can't even imagine... Is this what you meant about your life being complicated? You went and became a revolutionist while I was gone? Why didn't you just tell me?"

Hawke crossed her arms. "Why would I? So that you could tell me how stupid I am, how the Circle's problems aren't mine, and that I shouldn't involve myself in anything that doesn't get me gold or giggles? Come on Isabela, you never would've understood."

Isabela hesitated. "Maybe I wouldn't have understood, but if it was this important to you… I could've… I don't know. Helped you?"

Hawke shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess it was just too awkward to tell you…"

Isabela bit her lip, hearing her own words echoed back to her, three years later. Hawke had been lying, and hiding things from her. They were more alike than either of them had ever realised.

She looked at her lover, whose face was a portrait of shame and regret. "This doesn't change anything. I'm right here with you. We need to set sail immediately."

"You… still want to be with me?"

Isabela pointed to the blood stained bracelet on Hawke's left wrist. "You're mine, remember? I'm not going to abandon you because you've done something crazy."

Hawke looked at Isabela, adoration shining in her eyes. "You're amazing, I hope you know that. But you need to go to the ship without me. I'll catch up."

"You've got to be sodding joking, Hawke. No, I'm taking you with me now" Isabela shot back sternly.

Hawke looked her in the eye. "Set sail, Isabela. I will catch up. I can talk the Knight-Commander down, I know it. But that boat needs to be out on the water, in case I need a quick getaway."

"Hawke…"

Hawke grabbed Isabela and kissed her deeply. "You mean everything to me, I hope you know that. Now, go! Please. I'll be there soon."

Hawke turned her back, and headed towards the Gallows, leaving Isabela standing alone.


	49. Chapter 49

**49**

Isabela headed for the ship, feeling an invisible rope tugging her back towards the city. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. She boarded her vessel, and gave some hurried orders to Dario. She let the last few minutes play through her mind. There'd been something wrong with Hawke. More than the obvious guilt and anguish. The look on her face, the intensity of her kiss… _She was lying_.

Isabela ran all the way to the Gallows, forgetting things like finesse and stealth. She was halfway through scurrying up a building for a good vantage point, when a steel gloved hand grabbed her foot and yanked her down onto the ground. She looked up and saw the shining armour of a templar.

"You and trouble seem to go hand in hand, whore" Carver Hawke announced as he pulled her to her feet and pinned her arms behind her back. He started marching her towards the courtyard.

"Carver, let me go. I think your sister's in danger. I have to help her."

He tightened his grip. "Yes, she is in danger. She's finally going to answer for her crimes, and you will be punished right along with her."

Carver dragged her into the courtyard where the Knight-Commander and a large group of her templars were waiting.

Meredith eyed Carver and Isabela off. "Isabela, isn't it? The one behind the Qunari uprising? Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

Isabela struggled fruitlessly against Carver's grip. "Hawke's not responsible for what Anders did. He acted alone, and Hawke cut his throat herself. Spare the mages, Knight-Commander."

Meredith shook her head. "I think it's gone too far for that now. The Champion has repelled most of my forces, but not before they watched Orsino turn on her. We'll give them a chance to tear each other apart, before we go in and assess the situation."

Isabela gritted her teeth. Of course Orsino had turned on Hawke. Wasn't that what happened every time Hawke did a selfless good deed?

After a few tense moments, a familiar looking templar stepped forward. "Knight-Commander, I would like permission to take a small squad of men through the building. The Champion is in need of assistance."

Meredith turned her gaze. "No, Cullen. She's chosen her fate. I won't lose any more of my men to her flames."

"I'll volunteer to accompany the Knight-Captain. I owe the Champion my life." A young blonde templar stepped forward.

"Stand down, Ser Kerran. I have already given the Knight-Captain my answer."

The two men looked to each other, before both stepping back into formation. "Yes, Knight-Commander" they muttered in unison.

The Circle building finally opened, and Hawke came stumbling out, covered in blood, with her hands up in surrender.

"I hear the First-Enchanter is a blood mage. I won't pretend to be surprised. Did you slay him at least, Champion?" the Knight-Commander asked.

Hawke nodded, and lowered her head, her voice full of emotion. "The First-Enchanter succumbed to a pride demon. He became an abomination, and I killed him. He was weak. He… was meant to be the best of us, our leader…"

Meredith scoffed. "I hear _you've_ held that mantle for years now, Champion."

Hawke rested her defeated gaze upon the Knight-Commander. "What was I supposed to do? You house my people in a prison like they're criminals, and you turn a blind eye while your men commit atrocities. They force themselves on the women, they beat the men, and they inflict the Right of Tranquility on anybody who speaks against them. This is not what Andraste meant when she said that magic should not rule over man - "

"Enough! Lies! Baseless lies!" the Knight-Commander spat, "There is _no_ justification for what you have done, Champion. You have been murdering my men and using your womanly wiles to trick the rest. You will pay for your crimes."

Hawke nodded. "I've killed your men, that's right. Most of your senior knights, in fact. And now you're surrounded by a group of green recruits. I can't take you all, but trust me, I have enough left in me to cripple the rest of your Order. The First-Enchanter lies dead, as well as most of his senior mages. But the apprentices have survived. Let them live, and you can have me. I won't resist. Hang me, burn me at the stake, mount my head on a spike, it doesn't matter."

The Knight-Commander looked Hawke up and down, and turned to her men. "The apprentices will be spared. Now that the corruption of Orsino and the Champion of Kirkwall has been stopped, they can be steered in a new direction." She rested her icy blue eyes back on Hawke. "Your sentence, Serah Hawke, will be death by beheading."

"NO!" Isabela yelled as she tried to kick her way out of Carver's grasp.

Hawke dropped to her knees, and unsheathed her staff, laying it down on the ground before her. "I accept my sentence, Knight-Commander. And, thank you. For the children's lives." She lowered her head, exposing the back of her neck.

"Hawke? Stand up! Fight back!" Isabela screamed, as Carver held her tighter.

Hawke kept her eyes trained on the ground. "I'm sorry, Bela. I wish you hadn't followed me here…"

Knight-Captain Cullen stepped forward. "This needs to stop, Meredith. The Champion is an exemplary mage, you've said so yourself. Let her take her place in the Circle. She can be the strong First-Enchanter that Orsino never was. There needs to be no more bloodshed."

"Don't, Cul. You know I'd rather die free than submit to the Circle" Hawke whispered audibly.

"Don't argue, my lady. Anything is better than death" he hissed back desperately.

A look of amusement passed over Meredith's face. "Ah, Knight-Captain. I did wonder when you would speak in her defense. You have always seen the Champion as a man sees a woman, instead of as a templar sees a mage. I know that the girl is pretty, Cullen, but to turn your back on your duty in such a way is unforgivable."

"I don't know what you mean, Knight-Commander" the templar said, standing up straighter.

Meredith laughed bitterly. "Do not insult me, Cullen. Did you really think all of your doting and visits to her mansion would escape my notice? I turned a blind eye while you had your way with her, but this cannot be ignored. Your duty is clear, and I won't have you defend her. Retrieve her staff, and stand back. I should have expelled you from the order the day that you gave it to her. You broke your vows to me, and to your brotherhood. You're a disgrace."

The realisation hit Isabela immediately. "The Knight-Captain, Hawke? _Really_?!"

"Cullen, you bedded my sister?!" Carver bristled behind Isabela's back.

Cullen flushed. "My previous relationship with Lady Hawke is irrelevant. You're going too far Meredith. Your hatred of magic has blinded you. You are no longer capable of rational thinking. As Knight-Captain of the Order, I hereby relieve you of your command."

Meredith lifted her blade towards Cullen. "Enough Cullen! You've spent too much time in her bed, and she's corrupted your mind. You are an idiot boy. This is _exactly_ why we must keep our distance."

"My mind is my own, Knight-Commander. I'll not let you harm her." He withdrew his sword, and stood between Hawke and Meredith.

Meredith gestured to some of her templars. "Take the Knight-Captain into custody. He will answer the charges of consorting with a blood mage, conspiracy and insubordination."

A group of four confused looking templar recruits surrounded Cullen, pinning his arms back and removing his sword.

"Unhand me! This is not what the order stands for. Run, Hawke, run!" he yelled as he struggled.

Hawke looked up at him sadly and shook her head.

Meredith stepped towards Hawke. "Any last words, Champion?" she asked as she thumbed the hilt of her blade.

"Yes. Let my friend go. She was just passing through on her way to her ship. She had no part in this."

Meredith frowned furiously. "This woman should have been hung the day that the Arishok moved his troops against us. There will be no mercy for her."

Hawke met the icy gaze. "I don't see eye to eye with you, Meredith, but I know you are a woman of honour. I saved you once, and you owe me a life debt. I'm calling it in now. Let Isabela go."

Meredith hesitated, the muscles in her jaw clenching and unclenching. "Very well. She is free to live in permanent exile from Kirkwall."

Isabela felt the terror start to rise in her throat. "Hawke, no! I need you to get up and stop this! I won't watch you die!"

Hawke looked up and locked eyes with Isabela, tears streaking her face. "Then look away, my love."

Isabela knew she had to act. "Carver, she's your sister. You're not seriously going to stand by and watch while she has her head lopped off?"

His grip loosened slightly. "I… Yes, I am, my duty is clear…"

"You can't hate her that much Carver. What would your parents say? Just let me go. I'll do the rest" she hissed desperately.

"I... Maker forgive me, be quick…" he said as he let her go.

She unsheathed her knives and sprinted across the courtyard towards Hawke and the Knight-Commander. As Meredith lifted her greatsword, Isabela pushed off the ground with her powerful legs and leapt through the air, bringing her twin blades down into the Knight-Commander's neck. The older woman stumbled, then dropped to her knees, right in front of Hawke. Isabela removed her knives, letting Meredith's blood flow freely onto the grey tiles of the courtyard. The templar leader slumped to the ground and Hawke took her into her arms. Hawke held one thin, gloved hand, and said a small prayer, as the light left the Knight-Commander's eyes.

"Bela… you could've gotten away. Why did you do that?" she asked, looking up.

Isabela sheathed her knives. "I had your back, for once."

The templars surrounded them, looking back and forth in confusion. Most of them didn't look old enough to have hair on their balls. Hawke had done a good job during her reign of terror in the mage underworld.

Cullen shrugged out of the grasp of his bewildered looking comrades. "I am Knight-Captain of the Order. Our Commander has fallen, and I am in charge. Does anybody stand against me?"

The templars looked back and forth between themselves, but said nothing.

He stood above Hawke and stretched out his hand. "Stand up, Champion. You and Isabela need to leave immediately."

Hawke looked up at Cullen. "What? Leave? After what we've done?"

He nodded, the tenderness in his eyes visible. "You were never here. The Knight-Commander was assassinated by an unknown man. We couldn't catch him."

"Yes, that's what I saw," Carver said, stepping forward.

"Us too," three young female templars echoed, sheathing their swords.

"I saw the same thing," Kerran chimed in.

"Did anybody see anything different?" Cullen called out, receiving stony silence from the surrounding templars.

Hawke lay Meredith's body on the ground, and slowly got up. "There are still mages inside…"

They stood face to face, and he looked down at her. "I revoke the Right. They will be spared. But you need to get out of here, Champion."

"Cullen…"

He bent down and picked up her staff, handing it back to her, and putting a hand on her shoulder gently. "Never let this leave your hands again. It's yours. Now, go, my lady…"

Hawke swallowed deeply and nodded.

Cullen rested his gaze upon Isabela. "Look after her, Captain."

Isabela nodded sincerely. "Always."

Isabela took Hawke's hand in hers, and quickly walked away.


	50. Chapter 50

**50**

They made it as far as Kirkwall Harbour before they finally spoke.

Isabela took a breath. "So… You decided to go back to men. Fair enough. But of all the bloody men in Kirkwall that you could've bonked, you go for the Templar's second in command? Was that really the best way you could think of to stay free?"

Hawke frowned. "It wasn't like that. He wasn't a templar when he was with me. He was just… Cullen."

Isabela hazarded a look at Hawke's face. It was covered in dried blood, tears, and confusion. "You know that he's in love with you, right?"

Hawke nodded. "Yes, I've known that for a long time. Isabela… I need to tell you something."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Andraste's tits Hawke, I don't think I can take much more."

Hawke cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I know should have told you this years ago. Cullen and I… We didn't meet in Kirkwall. We knew each other from before. He was the boy from Lothering…"

"_What_?!"

Hawke nodded slowly. "He was stationed at our chantry. He caught Bethany and I practicing spells in the woods one day. Bethany got away, but he caught me. He should have arrested me or executed me, but he just told me to be more careful, and let me go. He was… different to the other templars, and he already knew what I was. He was the first person outside of my family that I could be myself around. We saw each other in secret for a year before the Blight came."

Isabela felt the colour draining out of her face. _Another lie_? "You told me that he died at Ostagar?"

"I thought he did. He got sent out to watch the Circle mages that had joined the King's Army. When he never came back, I assumed the worst. I didn't know that he got sent straight to the Fereldan Circle Tower, and he didn't know that I escaped the destruction of Lothering. We didn't even realise that we were both alive and in Kirkwall until I'd been living here for three years, and I'd just started seeing you, so nothing happened until after you left."

Isabela tried to reconcile her feelings. "I _knew_ it. I knew there was something between you two, that day at the Gallows. Why did you lie to me about it?"

Hawke shrugged. "Did it matter? You wanted nothing of meaning from me. I didn't think that my past was any of your business. I was always loyal to you, even though you were still sharing yourself with others."

Isabela tried not to feel betrayed. She looked at Hawke's face, determined to spot a lie. "Do you love him back? Because if that's what you want, then I'll step aside. I'll smuggle you both to Tevinter to live happily ever after. Just tell me now."

Hawke shook her head and gave Isabela's hand a squeeze. "He was an important part of my life, Isabela, and I'm sorry if that hurts you, but no, I'm not in love with him. I've only ever felt that way about one person."

Isabela gave a terse nod. "Well, at least that's something… I swear to the Maker, if you ever do any of that self-sacrificing shit again, so help me Hawke…"

Hawke stopped walking. "I'm sorry that you saw that. I'd hoped that you'd be halfway to Rivain by the time you realised…"

"I _know_ you, Hawke. Of course your damned principles would make you honour-bound to protect the Circle. Never again. I mean it. Not when we've only just found each other."

Hawke sighed. "What type of a person would I have been if I had left them to pay for my crime?"

Isabela bit her lip, an uncomfortable truth resting upon her shoulders. "Me. If you had left them, you would have been no better than I was when I left you to deal with the Qunari."

Hawke dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, that's not how I meant it."

"I know, but it's true, isn't it? That's exactly what I did to you."

Hawke's hand unconsciously rose to her nose and rubbed her scar. "I've forgiven you for that, and I hope that one day, you'll forgive yourself. I did try to warn you that it was a bad time in my life for… entanglement. It was selfish of me to become involved with you again."

"No, it wasn't. Now let's get out of here, before lover-boy decides to revoke his mercy." Isabela pulled Hawke's hand towards the ship, but Hawke held her ground.

"You can't take me with you, Bela. After what I've done here, I'll be hunted. You'll never be safe as long as you're with me."

Isabela turned around, exasperated. "I don't know if you've noticed this, Hawke, but I'm a fucking pirate. I smuggle illegal things, I rob people, I just murdered the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, for Maker's sake. I'm not exactly after a quiet life full of peace and contemplation. If we need to run, we'll run. If we need to fight, we'll fight. If you want to go and start another revolution, I'll be standing right beside you. Now get your arse on the boat, or I swear, I will carry you."

Hawke looked at her hesitantly. "Are you sure? I don't want to ruin your life."

Isabela pulled her in and kissed her lips. "I've never been sure about anything, but I'm sure about you. Now, come with me. Let's start our life together."

A small smile touched Hawke's lips. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

**3 months later**

Isabela entered her cabin. Hawke was sprawled out on their bed, asleep on her stomach, naked except for her tiny purple undergarments. Her skin was a red blaze, showing off the lines where her low-backed dress had sat.

Isabela crawled onto the bed and planted a kiss on Hawke's crimson cheek. She smelled different now. The flowers and soap had washed off her body on their first day away, and now she carried the scent of the sea; salt, sand and ocean air. It made Isabela love her even more, if that was even possible.

She reached for the healing balm on the bedside table. Hawke stirred, then woke with a start as Isabela started applying the cold cream to her hot skin.

"Oh sweet thing, you and your Fereldan skin. I knew those dresses you bought in Rivain were a bad idea. If you're going to insist on helping on deck, then we're going to have to find something to protect you against the sun."

Hawke moaned with relief as the cool ointment sunk into her skin. "Not everybody gets to be tanned and lovely like you. I just need to get used to it, that's all."

Isabela ran her hand over Hawke's unburnt lower back. "And have this beautiful, soft, _deliciousness_ turn into tough, wrinkled, leather? I don't think so. We'll find another way, or I'll have to confine you to below decks as my bed slave."

Hawke chuckled and then rolled over, inhaling sharply as the sheets scratched her tender skin. Isabela was pleased to see that while the face, arms and neck were all burnt to a crisp, the breasts were untouched, still perfect handfuls. She cupped them affectionately.

"I thought I asked you not to sleep like this? Your speech to the crew about the removal of phalluses was _very_ convincing, but I still don't know if I would trust a frustrated sailor who happens to walk in here while you're sleeping naked."

Hawke sat up. "We buy them a whore in every port. They have no reason for frustration."

Isabela laughed. "You are _so_ cute sometimes. You really don't see the way they watch you, while you're swishing around in your little dresses and bathing suits? And then the poor blighters have to listen to the sounds you and I make through the walls at night, it must be torture. I almost feel sorry for them."

Hawke frowned. "You don't wear any more clothing than I do."

Isabela laughed. "Yes, but they've seen what you do to men that touch _me_. Poor One-Eared Bob, the unlucky sod was just trying to cop a feel."

"_Exactly_."

"Tsk tsk tsk, that temper of yours. Are you going to grant me my one request, or not?"

Hawke thought for a moment. "Hmm… okay. I'll enchant the locks when I go to sleep. Happy?"

Isabela leaned in and gave Hawke a long kiss. "Very."

Hawke started to unbutton Isabela's blouse. "I can probably manage something standing up if you'd like, but I'd rather not try rolling around in the bed…"

Isabela grabbed Hawke's hand and removed it from her top. "That's not what I woke you up for."

Hawke cocked her head, giving Isabela a worried look. "What's wrong? Is there another storm coming? I'm pretty tired, but I think I have enough energy to put some wind in the sails to get us out of the way."

Isabela stood and picked out a loose blouse from her trunk. "No, not that either. Something different. Put this on" she instructed, helping Hawke gingerly dress herself.

"What is this about?" Hawke asked as Isabela led her blindfolded up the stairs and onto the deck.

Isabela guided Hawke to the bow of the ship and pressed her into the railing, so that she was facing the ocean. Isabela stood behind her, her arms wrapped around the mage's waist.

She put her mouth to Hawke's ear and whispered "You mentioned once, that you'd like to see this. It's the first clear night we've had since we left Kirkwall, and I didn't want you to miss out…"

She reached up and removed the blindfold, and Hawke opened her eyes. The sky was full of thousands of stars, glittering like gems. The ocean was pitch black and calm, reflecting the sky above perfectly.

Hawke looked around, her eyes bright. "You remembered me saying that?" she murmured, taking in the sight.

Isabela sighed happily. "Yes, I did. I remember everything about you. But don't go spreading it around. "

Hawke spun around in Isabela's arms so that they were face to face. "Bela, this is beautiful… I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything sweet thing, just take in the view."

Hawke leaned in and kissed Isabela tenderly. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Isabela chuckled. "No, you haven't, actually."

Hawke thought for a moment, and smiled. "Maker, I haven't either. I was always too worried that I'd frighten you off."

"And now…?"

Hawke smiled. "And now, I'm with Captain Isabela, _nothing_ frightens me."

Isabela laughed softly, and brushed a long strand of loose hair behind Hawke's ears.

"I love you, Isabela" Hawke said quietly, leaning in and touching her lips to Isabela's. "Do you love me?"

Isabela tightened her embrace. "In my whole life, I've never loved anything more."

Hawke kissed Isabela deeply, letting the magic dance on her lips and fingertips. The pirate and the mage stood alone on the deck, surrounded by an infinite ocean of stars.

**THE END**


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